It's been more than a few years ago now. We discussed it and moved on. But here's the story.
In my junior year of high school, I had a boyfriend who I just didn't see it working out with. I broke up with him. He didn't understand it or didn't want it -- I still don't know. He caught up to me every day, asking me why. One day, I was pulled out of school to find out a family death took place and we should go to be with our family. Ex-boyfriend texted me, saying he couldn't be alive anymore and he'd kill himself. This was all so fucked up. I called the school, told them a student was threatening suicide and I didn't know what to do. He called me and said his parents were punishing him for wanting to kill himself (still what? He always told me his parents sucked), that this was all my fault. Even now at 22, this is still registering as the most emotionally taxing day of my life so far. The next few days weren't better. He would still catch up to me at school every day, demanding to know why I broke up with him. I told him I was more than done during a passing period, trying to get away from him. He fell to the ground and cried. Everyone was looking. I ran. He called me twenty times one night, and left a voicemail, saying he would find me and figure out why I left. I was scared to go to school. My friends started walking me to classes, not leaving until I was in the classroom. I started coming to school late. Even then, one day, I came in a few minutes late to school, and he was waiting around a hallway for me. He grabbed me, shook me, got in my face and asked me why I did what I did. I kept shaking my head and repeating that it was over. He was the first and only person (so far?) to maliciously call me a cunt and he stormed off. I told the deans, and I was told that if anything happened again, to run to the nearest classroom and call the office. He caught up to me during lunch one day, I told him to leave. He decided to make a big show of storming up to my friends and I while we were eating and loudly say, "FINE. We're OVER." And he walked away. This was all over the course of a week or two.
After this, he kept trying to be my Facebook friend, messaging me and wondering why I was being so rude to him. Honestly, there were points in those initial weeks where I was just mad; I played up how hurt I was sometimes, but I was really more furious than upset.
I learned to forgive him. I hold no guilt for what I did, even if I painted him worse than I should at times. He took the breakup really hard, and I dealt with it the best I could. He eventually apologized and understood what he had done to me. Our relationship had been less than half a year long and even if that debacle was fucking stupid, I can't be mad forever. He's married with kids, and I'm in an amazing relationship. Things move on. But learn from what I should've done -- try not to be scared, don't hide, and use your emotions to push you to finish things once and for all.