Why I Broke His Heart

According to Tessa Bailey, "Love comes in many forms. It's not always sweet. Or comfortable. Sometimes it's selfish and consuming. Volatile. It makes choices for you. It demands you obey it, not taking no for an answer. And it's usually right. It knows you better than you know yourself."

Somebody asked me before what my definition of love was. It was a simple question, but when you have experienced that powerful, amazing, yet terrifying feeling of love, you'll find yourself struggling to put it into words.

It's true. We all have different versions of our answers to that question, but the gist of it is pretty much the same. We all have different perceptions of love. We all see it differently. We all have different ways to measure it. And we certainly have different ways of showing it.

Just the very mention of love immediately made me think of coffee-stained books, midnight driving on a school night, hearing his laughter, seeing that familiar curve of his smile, remembering how he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, feeling his lips on mine.

It made me think of walking down the streets wearing one shoe and dragging him by the shirt behind me.

Love simply made me think of him.

And I think that was the very first time I felt like I was really falling for him. I was just afraid of admitting it to myself, but I had loved him then.

But for me, love always comes with a sacrifice. It's what balances the sheer bliss of feeling love. There will always be a sacrifice to be made, a choice to be chosen, something to be left behind. For some, it might've been going against your family's wishes, breaking friendships, letting go of your dreams, or even sacrificing your own freedom, just for it --- for love.

But in my case, my sacrifice just had to be him. My choice was to break his heart. And I had to leave him behind.

And it was already given that in order to break his heart, I had to break mine first.