I think its inappropriate to call you by name, but I think you know very well who you are, you person who broke my heart.

I struggled for so long. I’d even said I had forgiven you. I tried. I thought I had forgiven you, but I was wrong. Very wrong. I stayed bitter for a whole lot longer than I let anyone know. I got really good at hiding what I felt about you, and how much I still cared.

I think it’s fair for you to know that I never should have dated you. I never should have put myself in that position, to sin like I did, to make myself vulnerable of doing whatever it took to make you happy. Because I did everything and more to do just that. I loved you. I loved you for a long time after you removed me from your life.

The funniest thing, however, is how much I actually DID love you. I spent every ounce of my effort loving you more, and it never seemed to be enough for you. I would’ve gladly taken a bullet for you any day, and depending on the day and how bad I hurt, I still would. You seemed to love me as well; you said that anyway. You showed it sometimes, but I was too blind to see all the times you didn’t see it. You embarrassed me in front of my friends at prom, you and your friends laughed at me on multiple occasions for caring “too much” about you, whatever that means.

I never saw it coming, though. Honest. I never would’ve guessed when you called me that Sunday afternoon that you would’ve said you wanted to end “us”.  For so long I had defined myself by your standards, and by who we were as a couple. But, in the end I was the one in my room picking the pieces of my broken self up off the floor.

You seemed fine. You still hung out with your friends. Everything seemed normal for you. When I’d pass you in the halls you would flash that deadly smile to everyone you passed, but you never once glanced my way. It’s like the thought that I existed never crossed your mind, and never would again. And while you enjoyed your next class after I saw you, I would go to the bathroom and cry. Trying to see myself in the bathroom mirror through blurred, teary-eyed vision I could almost make out the image of what was once me, but was no longer the man I knew.

I finally worked up the strength to call you after we broke up. When you answered, you told me you really didn’t want to talk to me again. I then proceeded to blame myself for every single problem in our relationship and every problem in your life, and in mine. There was a long silence-I remember because if you would have spoke one second later I would’ve thrown up. And after you did speak again, and hung up the phone…I did throw up. Your last words to me were: “Don’t ever talk to me again”

Do you know what it’s like to live with yourself thinking that you had hurt the person you loved with your whole heart so badly that they never wanted to speak to you again? Do you know how much blame you then shift onto yourself whether its regarding our relationship or not? You see the negative in everything, there are no more positives. You start to think what it would be like if you were gone from the earth. You think about if the people you cared about the most would be at your funeral. Then the worst of them all, would THE person I cared about the most be there? Would YOU be there? I knew you wouldn’t be.

But what really hurts the most, what drove me to insanity, and the darkest depression I’ve ever known was one simple thought.

“It was all a lie.”

4 days after we broke up, you went to the movies with your ex-boyfriend. The ex-boyfriend that after two weeks after you broke up with me, became your new boyfriend. And that you had been seeing him while we were dating. And that he was one of many you saw. One of many lies you told me, one of the hundreds of masks you wore. Whether it was making out with your friend in the school parking lot while I was attending Naval Academy Interviews, or the parties you invited boys to at your home, or the countless other times you flirted, texted, sent inappropriate pictures to, captivated, intrigued, entertained, or deceived other guys while we were dating. I knew that every thing you told me, every kiss, every “I love you”, every “you’re the only one for me”, every “can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you” was a lie. It was all a show; some sort of act to prove that you can manipulate and do whatever you want with genuine guys who care about people and want to make others shine.

After a long time, I found out the real problem. It wasn’t you. Not even close.

It was me.

From the moment I met you, I should’ve protected my heart, for my future wife’s sake. Not mine. I can take anything you, or any other deceiving woman in the world, or Satan wants to throw at me, because I have God on my side. And you can never beat Him. I should have never began to fall for you. The more I pondered, the more I began to understand that while I did indeed love you. I did not fall in love with you. I fell in lust with you. I lusted over everything about you. I set my own self up for failure. You did not win.

I have prayed for you everyday since one month after you broke up with me. I want you to find the man of your dreams, and I want you to succeed in life. I want God to convict you of your sins, your deception, and your pride. The funny thing is, I don’t want what you did to me, to happen to you. I would never wish that upon anyone. I know now that without God’s help I would’ve never made it this far, in anything for that matter, but especially with getting over you and finding out who I am. But the one thing I pray for the most, is that you feel sorry. I pray that you feel sorry for not only me, but everyone that you’ve hurt, every guy you’ve deceived, every heart you’ve broken, every friendship you’ve destroyed, and every life you’ve ruined. I pray that God will use you to glorify Him, and to grow His Kingdom on earth and to make positive impacts on the lives of others.

Love,

Your ex-boyfriend.