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I lay on my bed, letting warm, wet tears fall as I picked up the phone and dialed *Paul's number. As he answered with his usual, upbeat "hello," I thought about how close we'd become after three years of dating. We were best friends. And that's why this was so hard. For a moment I felt like hanging up and pretending I hadn't called, but I couldn't. I needed to go through with this. I hesitated, pausing. My throat felt dry as I told him why I'd called. "We have to break up."

Paul was quiet for a long moment before letting out a long and frustrated sigh. I told him why I decided to end the relationship. "We never talk about God. He's … so important and being with you … is hurting my relationship with him."

"Sometimes you're just too serious about God," Paul mumbled.

	"Kate, I really miss you. I know you love Paul, but you need to make time for your girlfriends. Call me." Click.

I cried harder, barely getting out what I wanted and needed to say.

"We don't hang out with friends anymore. … We … we have different interests, but we never get to do them because we're always together. I never talk with my parents anymore and I can't remember the last time I hung out with my little sister." Paul sighed again. "Do you really think I care about them? If you want to break up, then whatever."

In that moment I realized how far off track I'd gotten. We were both Christians, but really weren't compatible. He didn't think our exclusive relationship was a problem. But I knew focusing only on him had hurt so much in my life. Paul and I said goodbye and I pressed the "end" button on my phone.

It was over. Curling up in bed and crying harder than I ever had before, I let my mind drift back, hoping to discover where things went wrong.

It was early December, five years ago, and I was the new girl at a Christian school. Julia, a fellow eighth-grader, had befriended me. One afternoon we were jogging side-by-side, doing our warm up laps around the school gym.

"Do you really think Paul likes me?" I asked hopefully.

"I think so. I mean, he wrote you that note."

During my next class I wrote Paul back. We wrote notes for two weeks. Then one night he came to my choir concert.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me." Paul asked me after the concert. He looked as nervous as I felt, but I tried to keep my heart from leaping from my body.

"OK."

After that night we hung out almost every weekend and were officially considered "an item" by our classmates.

By sophomore year Paul and I were inseparable. I began missing my friends, but I knew I'd miss Paul more. I didn't realize it at the time, but my relationship with him was beginning to consume me.

It was mid-June and the summer before my junior year. I sat in the living room reading entries in my sophomore yearbook when the phone rang.

"Mom! If that's Sarah just let it go."

Sarah left a message on the answering machine.

"Kate, I really miss you. We haven't hung out in forever. I know you love Paul, but you need to make time for your girlfriends. I'm not the only one who feels like this. Call me." Click.

My mom sat down next to me.

"You need to go out with your friends more, sweetie. Paul isn't everything."

I looked at my yearbook and didn't answer. I was rereading a short message from a girlfriend.

"Well, Kate," it read. "I didn't get to see you a lot this year. Except for in the hall when you were talking to Paul."

I shut my yearbook hard and thought about Sarah's message a few minutes ago. Part of me had really wanted to pick up the phone and talk to her, but I really didn't want to hear Sarah lecture me one more time on how I was becoming a different person around my friends, family and God.

Lecture or no lecture, down deep inside I knew Sarah was right. I was compromising my relationships and especially my relationship with God. My thoughts and heart weren't where they should be. I didn't spend time with God each day. Sure, I attended church on Sundays, but all I cared about was how my outfit and hair looked. I wanted to look good for Paul.

I knew what I had to do.

Kate! Get up! Why aren't you ready to go?"

My head was heavy. I had just broken up with Paul an hour before. I slowly sat up in bed and stared at my sister. "We have to go! We have to be at camp in half an hour!"

Anne and I were volunteering at a local Christian camp for underprivileged children and today was our first day. I had completely forgotten about it. I was groggy, tired, and still really upset, but my sister wasn't taking no for an answer.

At first, going to camp was the last thing I wanted to do on such a horrible day. But as I helped the kids color and paint, I found myself smiling and laughing. I was able to look around and see a world that was about so much more than a relationship with one guy. I started to understand I'd done the right thing and that eventually I'd feel better.

It's been two years since I broke up with Paul. Since then, my relationships with my family, friends and God have grown. I've been involved in a lot of cool things like mission trips, student council, student chapel and the school newspaper.

It hasn't always been easy. I sometimes find myself wishing I had a boyfriend. But when I get down, I think about all the great times I've been having with friends and family. And I've been involved with activities and service projects I'd probably had missed out on if I'd kept dating Paul or anyone else.

It really is good to no longer be defined by a dating relationship. I'm not just "Paul's girlfriend" anymore. I'm my own person with many wonderful goals and plans for my life. Most of all, I'm God's child. What could be better than that?

Kate is a freshman at Taylor University—Fort Wayne. She wrote this story last summer during a two-week internship with Campus Life.

Read more from 'It Happened to Me'

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