I hated her for the longest time; I felt like she used me until she felt someone better came along and she could "complete the transfer" from one boy to the next.

The day we broke up I drove home in tears, laid facedown in my bed, and just sobbed. The next day at work I had to excuse myself to cry in the men's bathroom - heaving, heavy, ugly crying. This was my first (and basically only) serious relationship; I felt love and I lost it...the pain was like nothing I've ever felt before. It was intense and ever-present and...unreal? Unlike a burn or a cut or a broken bone I couldn't find relief in anything because, ultimately, she was gone.

I had my time to grieve and accepted the fact that the relationship was over but I was bitter. I was full of anger and hate and misery and longing and, most of all, regret. I regretted breaking down in tears when she told me, face-to-face, she hadn't felt "love" for me in a while. I regretted letting her comfort me after she had torn my heart out. But, above all, I regretted having such trust in her only to have it be betrayed.

I blocked her on facebook, deleted her phone number, destroyed all evidence of her ever exisiting but...I still now remember the url to her tumblr page. No matter how hard I tried not to and, believe me, I tried, somehow I'd always end up back there - I felt like the biggest loser on the planet. This is how I found out she was dating a guy at work that she always used to talk about while her and I were together, ouch.

To add insult to injury I would dream about her at least once a week. Vivid, realistic dreams. They were never sexual in nature (fuck my life, not even my subconscious could give me a break), mostly just "being together." I never remembered specific facts or events but I would always remember the void left behind when I woke up.

All this hit me harder than I care to admit. I honestly believe that I fell into depression afterwards (but my family, unfortunately, didnt really "believe" in this and thus I was scared to even seek help, I felt as if I'd admit to being weak), I flunked out of an entire semester at a, rather expensive, university and generally fucked my life-plans for a little bit.

And, during that time, a hot ball of molten hate claimed a spot where my heart used to live. Inadequacy was the biggest offender I guess because, of course, she chose him over me. She was making a terrible mistake; I was, and always will be, better.

I despised her but simultaneously [thought I] loved her. In reality, I wanted revenge. I wanted to hurt her as bad as she hurt me, I wanted to see that she'd gotten fat/dumped/pregnant/etc. Yes. I know. At the time, though, I felt totally justified in my thinking because I wasn't responsible for those things happening, they just happened. What does it matter to anyone else if I "enjoyed" the fact that she was getting her "just rewards."

My biggest cathartic thought was:

She'd be in a bad situation and needed my help, I was the only one left for her to turn to...I would go to her only to look her in the eye and walk away.

After all this vitriol, all this obsession with watching her burn (figuratively, of course, I'm not a cretin, good god), I just let it go.

Now, it wasn't all at once. It happened gradually; I grew as a person I matured, I had other relationships (for better or worse) and learned.

Until one day reddit has a rash of "my ex got fat"-type posts so my mind naturally wanders to thoughts of her and I realize...it was me.

I was so scared of losing her that I lost "my cool." I would get increasingly anxious/worried, would sometimes call her at the height of emotion (usually ending in tears for one or both of us, usually me). I wanted her to spend all her time with me, got pissed that she would admit that other guys/celebrities are attractive, made sex a chore/necessity, wash-rinse-repeat.

Basically all the actions that a person with deep-seated self-esteem issues would take.

It's no fucking wonder that she broke up with me (I mean, she wasn't perfect either but that's neither here nor there), I needed to grow up.

I'd say I'm 98% a different person now (for the better, I assure you). I am more aware of myself, of my emotions, of others, and so much more. I've been humbled by defeats, learned from my failures, and learned to accept things for what they are, not what I want them to be.

I vowed to become someone who would never hurt someone like that and would never be hurt like that again. You might take this to mean that I'm "closed off" but, really, it's quite the opposite - it just means that I'm more understanding of both parties in the relationship.

So, now comes the part I thought would never happen as long as I live. She didn't like reddit when we were together (she probably doesn't like it now) but just in-case she's reading this...

Sam, I'm sorry and, I guess, thank you. I was a cluster of emotions with no clue on how to express or understand them. You made the right call despite the fact that it hurt, I was an ass to assume that I was the only one feeling pain that day. I'm pretty sure you're doing okay now (or at least hope so) and I'm doing pretty okay too.

That's pretty much it.

Maybe on a different world, in a different time, we could've had something that lasted, maybe we still can - although those would have to be some pretty extraordinary powers of fate at work.

P.S. Also, I'm really sorry but the watch you gave me broke. I really liked it and wore it every day until the strap broke (metallic). Unfortunately, I lost a pretty vital piece and haven't had much luck finding a replacement.