During one of my random acts of boredom, I stumbled upon an ancient website of an exboyfriend. It was about his “art” or as I like to call, “the shit he produced while he didn’t have a job.” In any case, he dedicated one piece to me, thanking me for the “effort” I poured into the relationship and apologizing for our breakup. Though this may have seemed sweet on the surface, he mispelled my last name. Really. After all that time. he couldn’t even get that right. Maybe that’s too mean to say. After all, he never understood that “your” does not equal “you’re.” Snap!
You could say that it’s providential that I didn’t marry any of my ex-boyfriends, especially the ones who asked me.