The life of...

As a kid, parents did everything to prevent their children from experiencing heartbreak at some point in life. Whether they relay their messages from a movie, TV show, or through speaking of past experiences in their life. One way or another, you'll encounter one of those talks.

It begins with your older brothers, then continues with your father. Growing up, you and your older sister are last to leave the nest. You're also the ones who play "clean up crew" after the family gatherings. Going to sleep after 1am sounds like a plan until your father has had one too many drinks and begins his "life lesson" speech.

Now, at age twenty five, you're stuck with wiping your tears and turning your snot covered pillows. Pain from the right side of your head expands to the left. You pop five Advil pills, close your eyes and drift off to dream land.

Every morning you wake up with this pang of regret upon the sound of your alarm beeping. Sitting on the side of your bed, you rub your knee, exhale, and walk to the bathroom. As you wait for your Uber to arrive, you bite your nails as you countdown the time.

Life is in a repeated cycle. Work. Home. Eat. Sleep. Music. Video games. Occasional typing on the computer. Mood swings. Then history repeats itself.

The most important task of all... is getting over a broken heart you experienced in less than a month.

You are fresh on the team, blue vest, innocent aura, and friendly personality. Your team lead takes a liking to you on the very first day, and she began to see you as a potential leader.

April, the following month, is when all of those talks your father had with you went flying out of the window.

Here you are, standing on the ladder of your top stock cart, when you see two figures walk toward you from the peripheral of your eyes. Your team lead proudly introduces the new hire, as someone you'll train the whole day. Not only are you surprised from this sudden move, you also stand frozen as this new person was a GUY. You're always awkward around men. Why? That's a story for another time.

To skip all of the boring details, you and the new guy had grew closer.

In the month of June, you (the woman) admit your feelings for said male. Conversations were flowing, your body temperature rise when he's around, your cheeks are flushed pink, and you can't maintain eye contact upon speaking. Day by day, you struggle to compose yourself. It was a challenge that you had to overcome as to not raise suspicion about the two of you.

Here's where your father's speeches come in handy.

Within a week after my confession, the guy writes to you about overcoming your low self esteem. You've often mentioned your hatred towards selfies as you didn't feel as attractive. For the first two minutes, he spoke with gentleness. It makes you open up about how you view yourself. Then, he asks to see a picture of you. In which, you run to the bathroom because it had the best lighting. When he asks for something with more confidence, you dig in the back of your closet to pull out a mini skirt with a shirt that barely covers your stomach.

Your fingers sweat with anticipation as you await his response. Within one minute, he speaks of how "alluring" you look.

Oh, if only that was all he needed. Your thick thighs weren't enough, so he asks to see your "physical attributes."

Unknowing what he was asking for, since you've never had a relationship or anything close to it, you hold off on the response. His text are sent in a rush as he explains that he wants to see your ENTIRE body.

Right then, your mind screams to run away.

A few more months pass, and the two of you send graphic pictures to one another.

One day you pause your activity to realize that neither of you have seen one another outside of work. You only inbox one another when sharing intimate moments, but that's it. He doesn't sit with you at lunch, or even on your fifteen minute break. On his off days, you text about how much you miss him. Only to not get a response until the very next day.

Except when he asks for favors, you answer in a flash. You've given out money without hesitation, and even did things your mind and body were against.

October was a horrible month for you because it was the last you've seen of him due to termination. You were angry with coworkers, your spirits were low, every genre of music sounds depressing to you, and you began your habit of stress eating.

Due to the lack of seeing one another, messages were hardly flowing back and forth. Each night you'd curl into a ball and cry. It wasn't just sadness you feel.

As you stare at previous messages between the both of you, sudden hormones began raging. You knew there was one way to get his attention and that was through pictures.

Sure enough, the person you grew to love (because of blindness) responds to your message.

You know this is the lowest you've stooped, but if it meant talking to him, then it was worth it.

Until the day it wasn't.

Once you grew tired of his behavior of availability, you began expressing how you felt.

That, my friend, is the first time you broke up.

June of the following year is when you reach out first. You apologized, expressed how much he means to you, and that he hasn't left your mind for one second. Begging is the best word to use as you were DYING TO get him back.

Your words weren't getting through so you did something he only responds to. Yes, you guessed it. Pictures.

He responds by calling you "love" as if the two of you weren't separated for a few months.

This time, he seemed pushy. More than he's ever been. Instead of requesting pictures, he wants videos of you. Nerves shot through your body, but it all faded once he sent some of his own.

After giving you that opening, you sent endless videos to please him.

Here's where the story almost reaches its conclusion.

After the second week, you express how you want to act like a couple by hanging out. Sharing cute moments together rather than always sexual.

He would often agree, but left a trail of excuses behind.

If you want to facetime, he's doing something to his hair.

If you want to have phone conversations, he's sleepy.

If I wanted us to take a walk in the park or see a movie, he doesn't have money.

After your constant complaining, he ignores you for an entire week. July, was the final month you and him ever spoke again.

On your day off, you enjoy a bowl of cereal. You check your phone for messages, only to see he hasn't written one. A green glow circle his profile picture, indicating a status update.

An image of a pretty young lady aligns your screen, with no caption aside from two pink hearts. You click on the next slide to see another picture of the woman with the caption "she is my boss" with pink hearts beside the text.

Your heart melts as tears rush from your eyes like Niagara falls. You place the cereal bowl down as to not spill it, holding your mouth open. You stare at the pictures in shock, as your glasses are filled with flowing tears.

Two minutes later, you delete your Whatsapp account, block his number, and delete every bit of evidence you have of him from your phone.

July 6th was the worst day of my life.

From that day, I repeat these words "I REGRET MEETING HIM."