College life has taught me many things, from how to properly cite academic research, to how to expertly grovel at the feet of your professors in the hopes of getting an extended due date after a particularly adventurous Thursday night downtown expedition. As a twenty-something female though, I’d have to say that the most vicious college life lesson is the infamous break-up. To be fair, I've had a whopping two and a half (see my previous post) boyfriends the three years I've been in college and they were disappointing for the most part…ha. Though the first of the two (and a half) lasted four years, branching from high school, and the most recent lasting a whole three months, don’t be too impressed, a break-up is still…a break-up.
It seems to me that in every break-up there’s a casualty, on both sides no matter the duration or feelings involved. Whether it’s a lost shirt, a collection of CD’s, jewelry or maybe a favorite pillow, there is always something that doesn't find its way back to its original owner’s hands. The ultimate question however, is who gets the public stuff. Everyone has their hangouts – but after a couple splits, who gets where?
I've had a few relationships in my short twenty years, and about two and a half break-ups to go along with them. Break-ups are always messy it seems, so I can’t say that one was better than the other, they all have their own special chip in my young, angsty shoulder. My most recent break-up however presented its own interesting challenges. I made the beautiful decision of dating my polar opposite neighbor. He was great, in his own right, so I won’t really take the time to bad mouth him, the point is – we broke up.
And he lives less than 100ft away from my apartment. GRRREATT (And not in the Tony the Tiger way).
The casualties of this miniature catastrophe went far beyond the t-shirt I claimed or the CD’s I haven’t gotten back yet – who get’s the sidewalk? I mean on the one hand, it gives me the motivation needed to always at least attempt to put together a descent outfit, because, it’s not the months down the road embarrassing crossing of paths, it’s a daily slanted grin kinda incident. But on the other, it leaves plenty of room for speculation – which is a nice way to say obsession. But what about when we’re not at home? Who gets the popular Thursday night hangout? And does running into each other all the time at home mean we should avoid where the other works?
So with this comes my advice, DON’T DATE YOUR NEIGHBOR! NEVER EVER. (Unless you look deep into their eyes as they’re carrying their couch and smelly socks up the stairs and you fall deeply into love immediately) Don’t do it. Seriously.
Oh! And keep tabs of the stuff you exchange, it’s not exactly fun to have to dig up old sentimental dirt when you just aren’t feeling it anymore….
PS: Bay is Thing 1--she's decided to go ahead & use her name AND she may start her own blog-- YAY! Have a great weekend everyone!