In high school, I was secure. Safe. I knew everyone and they knew me. I grew up with these people over four years. I wasn’t starting fresh, it was all familiar.
Even graduating, I was still safe because I had my boyfriend. I was terrified of college, and so was he, but we had each other. It sounds sappy, but it was my reality. I thought we were a team. We both went into separate colleges together, and we supported each other.
He was texting me and supporting me on my move-in day, and we Facetimed so much. College, I thought, brought us closer together.
I used to tell him about my day and the classes I was taking, while he told me his. We knew about each other’s friends, however he made more than me. College was exciting for both of us. It wasn’t technically a long-distance relationship being that we were 30 minutes apart, but we both didn’t have cars so it was weeks before we saw each other. I thought we were solid and going great, but I was wrong.
I was SO wrong.
The days came where he never spoke to me. I was lucky if he even texted me “good morning” or even an emoji. I didn’t know what was going on in his life anymore and he couldn’t care less about mine. I used to call him when walking home late at night so that I wasn’t alone if I was being followed and such, but he one day told me to stop calling because he was busy. So, I walked home late at night alone. I always asked if we could facetime, but he said it had to be short (meaning 10 minutes or less) because he had places to be. I even spent $60 on an Uber trip through Atlanta to see him, and he did the same, but that wasn’t good enough for him anymore. I wasn’t enough. Our relationship was at the bottom of his list of priorities. I was pushed aside, and for some reason, I was to blame.
He didn’t want to see or talk to me, I wasn’t important, so he stopped caring.
I wasn’t giving him the roles he wanted in shows, I wasn’t succeeding like he was. Then one day he texts me saying he can’t do it anymore. Ironically, one of the best days of my life. He was gone. Out of my life, he finally set me free. However, in that moment, I felt alone. It was just me. I didn’t make much friends because my whole world revolved around him. I didn’t open myself to making new friends or staying out late with them. We broke up the second semester of college, and by then it was even harder to make friends. I didn’t have anyone. I couldn’t run home to my mom and have her tell me that boys are stupid and I’m better than that. My best friend was back home, and even though she was doing whatever she could to help me, I was still by myself.
By then, I shut down.
I pushed everyone out and partied. I annoyed everyone with my “I still love him” rant and made that my excuse for everything. I pretty much became a terrible person. But I was trying. My sadness turned into anger, which then turned into a state of depression where I failed two classes. I didn’t understand what was so wrong with me that he could easily just walk out of my life.
Skip to a year later, and I’m not angry or sad anymore, and I’m happy.
I got a job, a dog, and a new boy. Don’t let a simple high school boyfriend ruin your college years. We must realize our worth is not put into the hands of guys and I thank him for leaving me. It destroyed me, which made me pick myself up, get myself together, and move on.