Recently, I watched that awful Matthew McConaughey movie, “Ghosts of Girlfriends Past.” Two hours of my life that I’ll never get back, but whatever, I’m not bitter about it. What I am bitter about, though, is you. As I watched that movie and wondered what the hell I was doing with my life, it struck me: McConaughey’s character is haunted. He couldn’t have a good relationship because he’s haunted by his past. Then I realized I’ve been letting you haunt me.
The truth is, you guys sucked. You lied, you cheated, you dumped me for no reason, and one of you even broke up with me because my favorite football team beat yours. You hurt me in ways that I can’t even begin to describe. You were the actual definition of the word “douchebag.” And that sucked. According to my friends, I have every reason to hate you, to be bitter, and to call you mean names every time you come up in conversation. But I don’t want that anymore.
Honestly, you guys did me a favor. If you hadn’t done all the wrong things, I wouldn’t have recognized the guy who does all the right things. But you know what? It isn’t even about him. Thanks to you, I realized what I’m capable of — and it’s more than crying into a bottle of wine because of how mean boys are. You showed me that I’m so much stronger than I thought I could be. You helped me build my standards so that I could stop wasting my time. You taught me to be independent, and that I didn’t need a man to make me happy. You taught me that I can’t define myself by who you are, but instead by who I am, and what I do.
So thanks, guys. Thanks for being assholes. Thanks for every lie you told and every girl you slept with while we were dating. Thank you for breaking my heart, for making me cry. Thank you for pretending to be something you weren’t. Thank you for the fights, the names we called each other, the pain that you caused. Thank you for the times you ended up being gay, for the times you turned out to be in love with my best friend. Thank you for pushing my buttons, for driving me crazy, for literally being crazy. Thank you for being jerks, losers, dickheads, and scumbags.
Without you, I never would have learned to pick myself up, to keep moving forward when all I wanted to do was lie down and cry. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to realize what the right guy looked like. If I saw you now, I think I would shake your hand, honestly. Simply put, without you, I wouldn’t be me. So thanks, guys, and rest assured — I’m no longer on a quest to hit you in the balls the next time I see you.
Writing this with all the apathy in the world, and best wishes to you in the new year,
The Girl Who Finally Realizes She Was Too Good For You.