When I broke up with him, I though it was for the best. Not just for me but for him too. I thought we had a lot of growing up left to do. I needed to figure things out on my own. He did too. At that time we wanted different things. I thought letting him go was the right choice and that the pain was a sacrifice that I was willing to make it meant that he would be better off.
But as I looked at him, sitting just a few inches away from me inside our shared car, I second guessed my decision because he looked the way I felt: unhappy.
What was the point of it all if we're both miserable after all this time? Was breaking up with him a huge mistake?
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