The last boy who sparked my interest dumped me — not unceremoniously — after a courtship that was so sweet and comfortable that I ended up forever confused. He said he needed to make changes in his life and “one of those changes” would be not seeing me anymore.

I allowed my confusion over this to become anger (because what the fuck does that mean except I’m a bad influence?) but now I’m finally realizing that I only resent him because he represents the end of my lucky streak, my life as a wanted woman. I’ve always gone from relationship to relationship, because there was no shortage of boys who wanted to be with me. He himself was a heavy rebound (though I genuinely liked him). After him, the era ended; I’m truly alone now for the first time.

What was charm in me a few years ago is immaturity now, and the people I’d like to date are beyond my reach, living as they do in the Real World with Jobs and Educated Folks and Good Food and Real Culture while I languish here — not just in Humboldt, but in this particular alternate universe where I am what I am today. I fear that I am no longer a catch.

But anyway, the point: I reach a level of forgiveness for the Last Boy. He won’t be my mortal enemy, though he turns tail and runs if he sees me in public. He did nothing wrong by me but force me to confront this truth: who the fuck am I to believe I deserve that kind of adoration without giving anything back into the ‘verse? It’s a lesson I am learning and one I appreciate. Thank you, Last Boy, maybe I’ll see you at Soul Night sometime.