That's me. 1994. Probably around September.
That's my boyfriend's room. He rented it for next to nothing. One room in a house. Communal bathroom. It was conveniently right across from campus.
I was 21. I had no grey hair, no wrinkles. I didn't even have my bachelor's degree yet. I had had a few bad experiences in life. Like that boyfriend. I had no idea. Wish I could tell myself never to leave him alone with an ex. Oh, and always knock.
We broke up sometime the next spring. I left him alone in that room with his ex while I went to take an exam. The exam was, ironically, in Marriage and Family. It ended early so I walked back across the street. I opened his door without knocking. He was in the middle of receiving head from his ex. I slammed the door shut and left. Went back a few days later to get my stuff.
He was my third most serious relationship at that point in my life. I guess you could say that I didn't have much success with young love.
Posts
