I’m 15, and I experienced my first heartbreak a couple months ago. I thought I was in love with this boy, so I made him my priority until the day came when he told me that he wasn’t sure I was what he wanted anymore. In that moment I swear I felt my heart fracture, and I cried like I had been stabbed, which caused my mom to come running because she thought I had been injured.
The following weeks were filled with more tears than I care to recall, and more nights wondering what I did wrong than anyone should have to endure. What I was feeling wasn’t a new emotion and it wasn’t an experience unique to myself, but I swore no one would ever understand the pain I was going through.
I wallowed in self-pity and thought, “Why me?” I spent so much time furiously typing my feelings at 3 a.m. that I became oblivious to the beautiful life I could be living. On one of these nights I swore that I would never be the more passionate one again, or the more caring, or the more giving, or the one that loved more because that is the one who got hurt the most. I have realized since then that is the most ridiculous thing I could’ve done. Life is nothing without passion. Why stop myself from rising to the clouds because I’m scared of the fall? I am a passionate person, and I’m tired of being ashamed of it.
Having passion is thrilling. Being 15 years old and thinking my life is over because of a boy is ludicrous, but not being scared to start over makes me feel brave. I’ve developed a self love that goes beyond acceptance. I absolutely love being able to laugh at myself, and I take immense pride in being a good friend. I love my goofy personality and the way I walk with my head held high. I love the things about myself that other people may not find so appealing, but it took someone loving me in spite of these things for me to love myself because of these things.
I will get my heart broken again, and I will probably spend a few more nights on a tear-fueled writing rampage, but it will not be in vain. Next time I will have the solace of loving myself and knowing that they lost someone who loves, and loves a lot. So to the boy who broke my heart, thank you. You taught me a lot about myself. Thank you for the moments of joy you gave me, but I am ready to start my next adventure in life.
—By Chloe Maynard
