My ex and I had been together a little over a year when I decided to end things. His name starts with a D, so let's just refer to him as Dickhead from here on out. When we first met, everything was absolutely perfect, he was perfect, I was perfect, our relationship was perfect. It was obviously bound to fail.
As the year wore on, we got tired of the three-hour drive to see one another and we got tired of trying. The phone calls got shorter, the texts got more sparse, the visits became nearly nonexistent. We stopped communicating, and every time I would bring it up, it suddenly became my fault. Finally, I got tired of the bullshit, the constant fighting, the complete unhappiness and I decided that I deserved to be treated better than that. I deserve a man who wants to be with me, someone who wants to make me happy.
That doesn't mean that I don't miss him. A week has gone by and I broke down one night and drunkenly texted him. And then sober called him the next day. Five times. It was dumb, and now he thinks that I want to get back together... Which I don't. But it's hard to be alone, it's hard to wake up one day and think your life is falling into place and then watch it as it crumbles down around you. Relationships can be the best thing in the entire world, and they can also make you feel like complete shit.
It's not easy to end something that you've held on to for so long, something that used to mean absolutely everything to you. But in the end, if you know you'll be a better person, a better daughter, a better sister, a better friend because of it, then you have to do it. You have to do what is right for you. And for awhile it'll suck, but then it'll get better. Promise.
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