A Reflection On A Love Story That I Abruptly Ended, And How Being Loved Wasn’t Worth The Aggravation

It was a Friday night in Brooklyn.

My friend and I visited a guy friend of hers before we hit up a party down the block. I never met this man before, but he seemed cool.

Suddenly, his brother appeared. We locked eyes. I knew instantly that he liked what he saw.

After we were introduced he seemed nervous around me. He started acting childish by continuously poking fun at me and trying to get a reaction out of me. I was annoyed but I knew why he was acting so immature.

We didn’t live far from each other, so I would randomly run into him while grabbing food or walking home from work. We ended up being good friends.

After about a year we started seeing each other more. I guess I could say that my slumlord brought us closer together. The heat in my apartment didn’t warm up the entire space, and the building’s management was very nonchalant about my persistent requests to fix the damn heat. My bedroom was always so cold, and being in my apartment was very uncomfortable in the winter months. So my friend told me that I could sleep over his place whenever I felt the need to.

His apartment was so warm and cozy. His place was like my second home. I would often leave my clothes by him if I was running late to work because I knew that I would see them again. Eventually he bought a small set of drawers for me to keep some clothes…