It’s over. Officially. The pretty boy whom I blogged about sitting two tables away from me in first semester psych one year ago pursued me for five months, dated me for nearly two, and broke up with me yesterday.
My feelings for my boyfriend have absolutely perished. Currently, I’m at the airport waiting to board my flight back home to New York after a successful freshman year of college, and I’m arguing with my boyfriend, Marlowe, about something that happened last night. Actually, calling it “arguing” would be a stretch considering I give no f*cks about the conversation he’s trying to have with me. He’s essentially been talking at me for the past 2 hours in absurdly long paragraphs.