I told my mom I was having dinner with Ted’s parents, and she told me she was jealous that we weren’t having dinner with her. I’m just surprised that I’m going to their house on purpose.
“It’s so weird. I have a real boyfriend.”
It has been very close to four months since this whole thing started. Four is the magic number, the score to beat. In college, it’s the length of a semester. It’s time enough for the weather to change. It’s a natural out.
It’s possible that I’ve declared that I’ll marry any boy who can make it past four months.
In retrospect, that seems a little drastic.
So I’m bracing myself. There’s no good reason for it, just a precedence.
If you could know the day it all would end, would you want to?