Toward the end of the summer in my first year of grad school, my boyfriend Jan returned from two months abroad, and we were together two nights before the end of the year party.
I went to the party with my best friend, Melissa. I was feeling stoked and got a drink. Upon turning around, I happened upon Jan with his hand around his ex-girlfriend Louise’s butt in a group of friends. I threw my drink near Louise’s butt and screamed, “I thought you loved me!”
“My hand just fits there,” he said with raised eyebrows and a slightly raised voice of defense.
We had more words out at my car. I left and wound up at his apartment building, waiting hours for him to come home while sleeping in my back seat. When I woke up, all the lights in the building were out and he had obviously gone to bed – with or without Louise. I drove home.
Two hours later (now 4:00 a.m.), Melissa knocked on my window. “Andrew and I went all over the place looking for you,” she exclaimed. I told her I’d gone to Jan’s, and that I was all right.
The next day I found out I would not be getting a teaching assistantship, and therefore would not be returning to grad school. I got a bottle of red wine, called Melissa, and she said, “I’m sick of you,” and hung up on me. End of the year of living voraciously.
Lo Scriviti 