The Breakup Letter I Didn’t Get To Write To The Guy Who Broke My Best Friends Heart


I’m sad best friends don’t get to write break up texts. We don’t get a live view of the last fight or phoned into the last conversation you ever have with our other half. Instead, as a best friend, we are left with second hand accounts of the situation, told to us through rivers of tears and copious scoops of ice cream.

Today, I decided I am writing you a break up letter. This here is my way of getting closure because I stood by my best friend through your relationship, the highs and lows consumed my days. I was regaled of stories about the best days: when you awkwardly whispered ‘I love you’ and she had to make sure you weren’t pranking her, when you held her through her sobs as she opened up to you about her tragic past, or even when you stood proud as her human shield while she got sick on your white tailored shirt during her 21st birthday party. It was memories like these that I stood by your relationship. I thought to myself, you couldn’t be that bad if my best friend, my other half, the one who always has my back, is coming home with stars in her eyes finally feeling secure with a man. But I was wrong.

I should have remembered stories about the lows. When she came home crying from dinner because you belittled her in front of others, when you lashed out because she chose the dress I liked instead of the one you preferred, or when you questioned her future career path she was determined to take because you didn’t think she was capable. Your selfish nature was always evident. In every tear, every text to me that asked, “am I being irrational?” and every change of plans for you was my best friend losing a little piece of herself in your web of insecurity.

My best friend is a light in this world. When she walks in a room everyone notices because she is laughter and joy personified. You saw it. You picked her. And consequently, you extinguished that light.

The dark clouds of your past strangle you in their chaos. Instead of allowing her to give you a life vest, you chose to drown her as well. I stood by as you slowly dimmed the bright light I once knew. I thought it was normal – that of course she had to invest some of herself in you if she wanted this relationship to last. She was happy most of the time, she smiled, she was in love. But it was your love that strangled her, that finally broke her already fragile heart she had given to you so freely.

You didn’t protect her. It was your job to protect her. I feel foolish that I let you have that responsibility. With that power, you broke her heart and shattered her world—a world you created around her when you stripped her of essential pieces of her soul. In committing your final selfish act, you stole a little piece of my confidant, my hero, my backbone when I need one.

And now, it’s time for me to step up. To protect her when she’s healing. To help her look for the lost pieces of her soul that gradually fell away the deeper she got dragged into you.

She will move on, she will find that light again. I am determined to fight alongside her to help her remember who she was before you. I will fight harder than anyone ever has because I failed her when I didn’t see her light dimming. I acknowledged her tears but didn’t see how much of herself she was losing in the process. I didn’t notice her light extinguish until that very last day, and for that I will never forgive myself.

But to you, I want to thank you.

I want to thank you for selfishly choosing your own happiness over hers and shattering her world, because she will build a better one.

She will fight for her light back and it will shine brighter than it ever has. She will once again grace the world with her goodness and love, and she will do this with the confidence that she can rebuild her world after it crumbles.

You have taught her being alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely. You have taught her that she doesn’t need validation for every choice. And most importantly, you have taught her that her support system is rock solid. You’ve shown her that without you, she still has hands to hold, shoulders to cry on, and voices that will lift her up. She has friends and family who are proud of her, and most importantly, she has me. She has me to remind her that she matters most to someone, and that I need her light to help me keep mine from dimming.