I was thinking last night. Whenever you’re trying to assimilate an event or a relationship into your history, you have to basically write out the story of it/you so that it reads like a history book. I feel as though I’m at the point that I am really turning the page on him, but I have to figure out his reference. Even to myself, I don’t feel as though I can call him my “ex-boyfriend.” Using the word “boyfriend” would be taking liberties with the truth, even if it’s prefaced by “ex.” (And a part of me feels deprived that, yet again, he has denied me his “boyfriend” status.) So the title is tripping me up a bit. He’s my ex-what? He’s my refused-to-be-my-boyfriend-man? He’s my ex-lover? My ex-nothing-relationship?

 

Tonsil update: Poeticgrin felt of my neck the other day, felt the protrusion that is my right tonsil, looked at me, horrified, and said, “What IS that?”

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