My First Break-Up

The first time I heard "Better Man" on the radio, I thought, "How the heck did this guy get into my head?" Each line of the song echoed what I had been thinking and feeling about the relationship I was in. I knew I needed to break away from the situation and practiced over and over the moment when I would finally find the courage to stand up for myself. In the end, I would roll over and wallow in the fear that I would never find anyone better than that guy.

I was so entrenched in the self-defeating thoughts, that it took a year for me to end the relationship. This song played in my head through the whole process.

Suddenly I knew what I had to do. I closed the shop where I worked and drove over to my boyfriend's house. As soon as I walked in the door, he knew something was up. We climbed into my car and drove through both his neighborhood and mine. Accompanied by the gentle rocking of the windshield wipers, we talked about where the relationship was headed.

The drive was long and winding. So was our relationship. We had weathered severe storms. We had pledged our love. We had hurt each other deeply. We loved each other just as fiercely. We talked about all of this that night, and verbally wondered how we ended up at that point. Deep down, we both knew exactly where the conversation was headed, but neither of us wanted to admit it.

At one point, I felt myself regress and was tempted to try once again to make a doomed situation work, but I could hear "She needs him. That's why she'll be back again." I knew I didn't want to be that girl. I was tired of giving speeches in my head. I was done with feeling like my life was stagnant. By the time we reached my driveway, I had listened to the entire song in my head and found the strength again to accept my original decision.

I dropped him off at his house and drove home alone. The song came on the radio, and I knew without any hesitation that I had done the right thing.

That was that. No song has ever come this close to reflecting the reality of my life. I still see his face when I hear "Better Man." I still sing the chorus whenever I need an extra dose of self-respect.