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We never officially started dating; he just started spending more and more time in my room. Eventually my foreign exchange student roommate decided she had enough of the kissyface routine and moved out. I came home to a dorm room half-empty of furniture. "I wish Brett stop visit late night," said the note. I found out through the housing department that she moved in with a girl from her home country.
I never got a replacement roommate, which of course helped accelerate the relationship. By the second month we were playing the college version of shacking up--not a good idea. I had just ended it with my high school boyfriend and taking a breather of longer than, say 72 hours, might have been healthier for my emotional development and well-being.
From the moment I met Brett I had doubts. He was socially awkward, always in trouble with his R.A. and flunking all his non-music courses. I couldn't imagine telling my parents about him, which was saying a lot. I have the world's most liberal dad and mom.
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