We broke up because his family situation was getting worse and he felt he needed to sort it out on his own. We were both pretty heartbroken about it, but decided we could still be friends. But I fucked it up. I kept hoping for something more, and it only made both of us feel worse. Later I got diagnosed with depression, and decided to cut him off for both of us. It's ironic because I thought I was really getting since the break up; I didn't expect it to turn into depression. Maybe it's also because I have a dysfunctional family, I don't know. In general my life isn't that bad and I know so many people who have it worse. It's like I don't have the right to be depressed.