Other than that, I'm not sure what to do. Halfway through his three-week trip to New York, Bo and I decided to break up after he left. Let me backtrack a bit.
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Last year summer brought me Bo and this one will take him away. He's moving to Rome -- yes, Rome, Italy -- to study medicine.
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It’s a totally American tableau: brown swivel leather seats, booths lining the right and middle sections, the type of place where you can get an egg-and-cream and a solid hamburger, and eventually everyone knows your name. Or at least, your face.
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We were in the same building: I was at a party on the 3rd floor, he was at a party in the Penthouse, same evening, same time, floors apart. So as I was on the third floor whining about being lonely and wanting a boyfriend, the man I would meet was right above me.
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