I Don’t Feel Guilty About Breaking Your Heart

If I hurt you, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention. I didn’t pull you into my life with the knowledge that, one day, I would push you out with equal force. I didn’t predict that I’d be happier without you than with you.

And I certainly didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to become the reason why you got wasted off of cheap beer and sent me those unfair texts. Texts that painted me as a criminal when I was really another victim sitting alongside you.

I didn’t mean to become the reason why you stopped trusting and started sleeping around. I didn’t mean to become the reason why you shaved your head and fled back to your ex.

I take full responsibility for what I’ve done. For leading you on. But the thing is, I didn’t realize I was leading you on. I thought I wanted to be with you. I thought we were going to be together forever — or at least for a few years. In a way, I guess I was leading myself on, too.

I’m disappointed that things turned out the way that they did. I would’ve loved to move into an apartment in the city with you. I would’ve loved to watch you grow into the success story you’re destined to be.

But reality didn’t align with my dreams, so I had to squash yours.

It’s not that you’re unattractive. You’re gorgeous. It’s not that you’re a douchebag. You’re a sweetheart. Sometimes, people don’t connect spiritually. Sometimes, mutual interest isn’t enough. Sometimes, you need more. I needed more.

For the record, I really am sorry for what I did to you. But I don’t feel guilty about any of it. Why would I?

I could never feel guilty about choosing myself. For deciding that you were toxic and needed to be removed. For realizing that our relationship wasn’t bringing either of us what we needed, even if I was the only one to see it.

I could never feel guilty about doing what I had to do to turn my life around — because that’s what this is. My life. That doesn’t mean I have permission to do whatever the hell I want without considering anyone else’s feelings. That I have permission to act like an asshole.

But I don’t think I did. I handled our situation as gracefully as I could at the time. I tried to protect your feelings. Maybe I took the wrong approach, but I tried.

Even if I ended our relationship on a different day or in a different way, it had to happen. I had to leave.

I’m sorry that I hurt you. I really am. But I don’t feel guilty about leaving, because it sent my life in the direction it was destined to go. It brought me to where I am today, and I’m pretty damn happy today.

I hope you are, too.