Teenage Heartbreak

I'm probably a little out of my depth here as this comes from almost a decade ago and is strictly from memory. However, that being said, I remember a lot about my first heartbreak. I remember it hurt. I remember feeling like things wouldn't ever get better and that I'd be destined to walk the earth alone aimlessly until my dying days. I also remember coming back from it after months of trauma and perplexing thoughts. But let's take a step back and rewind to the very beginning. Hopefully, here, you can understand that this thing you're going through isn't the end after all. Hear me out, and you'll come to learn that it really is only the beginning of something truly beautiful.

Admittedly, when I experienced my first heartbreak at nineteen after a healthy three and a half year relationship, I felt the world collapse around me. I was pushed to the bitter edge and in a place wallowed only with darkness. Only, my Mum never saw it as being like that. She saw her teenage son going through a phase that would soon be over. But I was in pain. I was suicidal even. This was all the result of a teenage breakup that had no helping hand to show me the way out on the other side. This was because, really, nobody cared to listen. Because, in their eyes, I was "too young to understand love and feel it."

See, the biggest issue with young heartbreak is people don't tend to take it seriously. Say, for example, your parents just heard the news that you and your partner have just split. Chances are they've laughed and said something stereotypical like "Young love, eh?" before carrying on like nothing ever happened. Only, it did happen - and you're hurting. That's something people don't take the time to explore with younger relationships and it's an issue that still needs addressing.

Every human is capable of feeling love, just the same as we're all physically aware of the heartstrings being snapped as they get tugged one by one after a breakup. Age should never be a factor when it comes to a relationship. We all hurt. We all need help. There's no comparison when it comes to heartbreak. Love is love; and if you feel it with true intent, you're just as much of a victim as anybody else.

For me, my girlfriend decided to call it quits after three and a half years. Rather abruptly, might I add. But in my eyes, it was something she had been planning for quite some time. Only, I never totally understood why. I mean, sure, we argued every now and then but what healthy relationship doesn't have the odd tiff here of there? This was something I truly wasn't expecting. In my eyes, she was "the one" and I knew that my life wouldn't exist without her. I wanted to marry her, start a family with her and live happily ever after. But that ended with no warning and I was left to pick up the pieces with nobody to assist in stitching the puzzle back together again. I was stranded and in need of a lighthouse.

If I wasn't spending my days weeping into a pillow as I binged box sets like Breaking Bad or How I Met Your Mother, I was probably out driving aimlessly listening to melancholy piano compilations on repeat. With that, I chain smoked and drank almost every day. I had this entire universe available to me and nobody to walk it with. I was alone, and my days were as empty as ever. Nothing could fill the void that was left there after almost four years of companionship and second-nature routines.

Friends would often laugh it off and slap me on the back as if it could rinse the agony slumped over my back. But, despite the minimal effort from friends and endless drunken nights in a lonely club listening to crap music – I didn't feel the recovery taking place. If anything, the depressing sight of an empty bottle or nightclub made the heartbreak hit that little bit harder than before. Hell, even being alone didn't help much, either.

When it comes to teenage heartbreak, or any breakup for that matter; the remedy is time. Time is never on your side but it really is the only thing that can slot those missing pieces back together. However, it's figuring out what to do with the time that destroys you. Because, in your mind, you've established a schedule with your ex that you're no longer in control of. You're alone for the first time and you don't know how to tolerate it without someone beside you. That's the hardest part of the process that nobody can get used to no matter the circumstance.

Personally, the only thing that got me through the gruelling months of isolation was longed-out sitcoms and endless driving through winding roads. Because, when I wasn't enticed into a fifteenth episode of a TV show, I was thinking about her. And God knows I didn't want to think about her anymore than I had to. Because when I did, I would overcomplicate things and trick myself into thinking worst case scenarios that probably weren't true.

"What if she's with somebody else?" I'd whisper to myself.

"What does HE have that I don't? Why doesn't she want ME anymore?"

I'd find any excuse to not think about her, but she'd always sneak back in one way or another. And then, of course, things like household possessions take their toll on you, too. For me, those possessions came in the shape of a memory box left on my front door shortly after the breakup. This box contained silly things that acted as trinkets to a four year story. Receipts from days out, tickets to aquariums, photos from holidays abroad, cuddly toys smeared in lipsticks and perfumes. These things pushed my depression in to a whole new level I never even expected to reach. And, as much as I wanted to slave over the box and clutch on to it with all my might, I knew unlatching it from my chest was the best thing for my mental health.

In between binging series, I tore photo's one by one, and I burnt the remains of what was, in my eyes, the best years of my life. And, as much as it broke me to do such things, I could feel the space widen for every extinguished memory. That's partially what helped on the maddening road to recovery. So, if like me, you hold on to things that remind you of your ex – just burn them. This is one of the initial and most necessary steps everybody should take before moving forward. By removing the lingering scent, you clear the air and make it your own.

Months pass and you begin wondering what you've achieved since the split. You circle back and forth over excuses but overall come to the same conclusion that the previous months of lounging have all accounted for nothing. But, deep down, you know something is working. And that person you used to be before the relationship is coming back and reminding you of what you once were.

I spent a solid six months wishing I could have my old life back. I left voicemails begging for a second chance. I told myself there was nobody else who could make me as happy as she once did. I lied and I lied until the smoke screen subsided and the reality of single life started to sink in. Eventually, I started to realise that being alone wasn't as bad as I initially thought. Sure, the process of realising this totally sucked, but with time comes a sudden jolt to the brain and a quick reminder to evaluate your self-worth. You are worth far more than you give credit for. You just have to realise this before it's too late and you succumb to the trickery that squeezes your conscience.

For a long time I forced myself to try and find a counterpart that would quickly snap into the wide shoes that my ex left. Because, for most of us, it's a comfort thing that people hate losing after a breakup. Sure, it's great having quiet time to yourself, but after spending years acting as somebodies second half, becoming the whole circle is just too much to deal with. And it's because of that that we become these desperate souls seeking approval from potential matches. Whether it being online or in person; we suddenly become these surreal people who'd do anything just to feel normal again. Only, that's never usually the way forward. People say it is – but it isn't.

When I clocked on to the fact my ex had found somebody else after the split, I was desperate to retaliate and locate my second relationship. But, the more I tried to throw myself out there, the more I felt rejected and petty for the sleaziness of my attempts. I tried and I tried until somebody would acknowledge me. And, to be fair, they did – but not for the right reasons.

It's a pretty common feeling to want what your ex has. There's a jealousy that still lingers even after you've long moved on. This is especially made a whole lot harder when you weren't the one who ended it. And, seeing the one you love fall into the arms of another person truly is the most gut-wrenching feeling known to mankind. Because of this, we often question our worth and compare ourselves to the rival who beat us. That's something that never quite leaves you, even after several years in the clear.

Breaking up is a horrible thing. But, sadly, it's something that probably happens to all of us. It's figuring out how to push through it and emerge better off that's the hard part. Because as much as we all wish to be invincible and immune to heartbreak, none of us will ever have the luxury of getting off scot-free.

Teens – you're not alone. We've all felt what you're feeling and still managed to overcome it eventually. It isn't the end of your life and it definitely isn't the only relationship you'll ever have. There's more out there than you think, and it comes at you from all angles when you least expect it, too.

After spending six long months of draining myself and battling for approval from strangers, I found my lighthouse between storms and secured it at the snap of two fingers. With an act of spontaneity and a chemistry fit for a flame – I found my light. I found somebody who wanted to dig me out and dust me off again. And, because of that, I was able to feel the burning sensation in my chest once more. Feelings of my ex disintegrated day by day and the nauseous feeling subsided for each passing moment. I was bringing myself back from the dead and crafting a new and improved version of myself that would prove to the world it was fit for a fighting chance.

Years passed. Things happened. Relationships drifted in and out and the four year story soon became fictional. I pursued my ambitions and became a better incarnation of myself. I found the girl who I would later call my wife. I grew up and had kids of my own with the woman of my dreams. I moved on, plain and simple. But, looking back on my nineteen-year-old self – this was something I never thought possible or even remotely achievable.

Time is key. That's really all there is to take away from this story. However, I urge for parents and carers to take the time and effort to just consider the pain a child might be feeling during a breakup. They need your help in finding the lighthouse between storms. They need to be told things will get better and it isn't the end of a journey at all. They need you – and they need you now.

Friends, I hope you pull through this rough patch on what is to be, in the long run, a healthy adventure full of wondrous moments. Let this be nothing but a bad memory that you'll look back on someday with shrugged shoulders and a heart filled with no ill thoughts.

There's a lighthouse for everyone in the darkest of times. Find yours and never for a second lose sight of it. These days will pass, and things will get better no matter the case. So hang in there and tackle each day as it comes. You'll come out a much better person. Trust me.

- J Tury