Breaking Up

After taking our graduation photo, I break up with Philip Lutz. "You're doing this just because I stood behind Mandy and not you while we were taking our graduation photos?" he asks. "Yes," I merely reply. "Sure," he says with a smile. "You'd better not come crying to me or begging for us to get back together later." Having known each other for ten years and dated for four, Philip is certain that I'll never leave him. However, he's unaware that the graduation photos are just an excuse. If I'm capable of taking my graduation photos alone, I can walk my future path alone. Once I've gone abroad, the sky's the limit for me. I no longer need him to stand behind me either.

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

The day after I proposed to my fiancée, she sent me a message out of nowhere saying it was over. I called her over and over, frantic, but she hung up every time. I sent message after message, and she read every one without replying. I even went looking for her, but she was nowhere to be found. It was not until I collapsed onto the couch, completely drained and white as a sheet, that I finally saw a new social media post from her childhood friend. [Only Ellery would actually go through with it. She drew the dare to dump her fiancé cold—no explanation, nothing—and she really did it. Absolute legend!] I read it, then replied to her message: [Got it.]

Late one night, my wife called me, her voice carrying a hint of apology. "Drew, I'm sorry. I cheated." Everyone in our lives knew she loved me more than anything. So how could she possibly cheat? After realizing it was April Fool's Day, I replied with a smile, "I cheated too." She didn't sound surprised at all. Instead, she seemed relieved. "That's good. At least I don't feel as guilty now. "The divorce papers are in the second drawer of the study. Just sign them." I was about to tell her she was putting on a pretty convincing act when the call suddenly ended. Smiling, I opened the drawer and froze. The divorce agreement was real, with her unmistakable signature at the bottom of the final page. My eyes stung as I reached for my phone, about to ask whether this was really some kind of joke, when a message arrived from one of my wife's graduate students. [Mr. Jensen, so it turns out you cheated too. In that case, just step aside already. Then Ms. Jones and I can finally celebrate our first anniversary out in the open!]

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."

While we're camping outdoors, my boyfriend, Preston Bassett, hands his cup to his childhood friend, Ashley Rankin. Instead of making a scene, I simply tell him I want to break up. "Just because I'm letting her use my cup?" "Yes." Rather than getting mad, Preston laughs. "Fine. Let's break up then. But try to stand by your decision this time. Don't come crying to me for a second chance before we've even packed up the tent." His friend chimes in from the side, "Maybe you should just apologize. If you guys actually break up, you'll be crying before you know it." Preston looks at me like he couldn't care less, a mocking smirk on his face. "She's just bored out of her mind and is looking for trouble. "Back then, she was even willing to fall out with her family just to move to this city and be with me. I'd be impressed if she could keep this up for two days." He's right. I have loved him for three whole years, and I have willingly given up everything for him. What he'll never understand is the fact that jobs can always be replaced, and the wrong person is always someone worth walking away from. I have already submitted my resignation and received an offer from a new company. So, as soon as the handover is complete, I'll leave. This time, no matter what happens, I am never looking back.