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What a road.

It's been almost a year since I gave up on everything. Within a single semester of college I had adopted a new group of friends, taken to drinking on the weekends, and risen to smoking a pack a day. My boyfriend at the time hated smokers and drinkers and wasn't the best human being to be attached to in my life even when I was living the life of sobriety (which was only the case because he demanded it). I was extremely unhappy and, feeling trapped, was perhaps looking to rebel against him in some way, and so I did a lot of this behind his back until I dumped him at the beginning of the summer.

Giving up led me here. I'm convinced it was the best choice I've ever made.

That summer, everything changed. I was newly single, I lost weight (which I had been failing miserably at doing for some time), I was making new friends and revamping old friendships that I had had to abandon for my relationship. I was having the time of my life, and when I met up with Daniel again after maybe 2-3 years of not talking (besides running into him in the WinCo parking lot, the only place I ever seemed to see him) it was a pretty awesome feeling.

Now I'm completely infatuated and don't know how I went two years in the most unhealthy situation of my life when I could have instead been involved in something so wonderful. But maybe I appreciate this more now because of the hell that I went through before.

Maybe I don't regret anything, I can't exactly be sure. I do know that I've thrived on the strength that I had to leave as soon as I decided I wanted to, especially after so long of subconsciously forcing myself to stay. Before that day I never really even considered ending it, I simply felt like I was in a situation that sucked but that I had no control over. Yet once I made my decision it only took me days to breach the subject; I cried only once, beforehand, nervous over saying what I wanted. But I did it and just like that, I no longer felt emotional connections to the person that had been in my life every day for two years.

He called me two days later and asked me if I was ready to take him back, followed by the question, "or have you found a new boyfriend yet?" which he tried (and failed) to deliver in a joking manner. And I did what any respectable woman would do: I told him about my night at the church with Daniel and how happy I was to see him again.

And now he's mine and I'm the happiest I've ever been.

PS: If you want a (very brief) explanation of the church story, check out my About Me page. You'll find it in a tab at the top.

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