Neurotically freaking on December 7, 1998…
Dear Breakup Girl,
Oy! Where to start? Where to start?
I know! I was living with my boyfriend for three and a half years and then he dumped me! HE dumped ME! The nerve.
Things hadn’t been perfect with us for a while. There had been a lot of arguments. He was majorly clinically depressed and wouldn’t deal with it. Everytime I went out with my friends, I knew when I came home he’d pick a fight.
But he LOVED me. And I loved him. When we got together, we had both had crushes on each other for months and hadn’t known it. So when we finally figured it out, there was so much pent up emotion that we moved in with each other within three months.
Granted. Not the healthiest action. We were probably just majorly infatuated. But then we made it work for three years, and I always thought that was validation of our earlier adolescent actions (we’re both mid-twenties.)
But my problem isn’t with the ex. Well, it is, but it isn’t. My problem is with cutie-boy.
Cutie-boy is the older (early 30’s) boy who works in the office suite next door from me. We kept running into each other in the halls. He kept asking me to coffee and I kept forgetting to tell him I had a boyfriend. When I finally told him, cutieboy claimed that coffee wasn’t exactly a betrothal.
So I went and we had a good time, and to cut out a lot of extraneous info, we ended up sneaking into emergency exit stairways at work and making out. Harmless fun. I knew it was wrong, but told myself I was just getting a little attention that my (soon-to-dump-me) boyfriend wasn’t giving.