Okay, so really, I already knew that, but this past week has just reaffirmed my belief. So, on Sunday, Stephen and I broke up. It was messy, I cried, made him feel bad, etc ad nauseum. I have to admit though, I did sort of force him to it. He leaves for Greece in two weeks, and I didn't want this whole "I need to take time to myself to figure stuff out" shit hanging over me. Alright, so now I'm pissed. We dated for nine months, and maybe he wasn't in love with me, but I was fine with that--everything else was great. He even said I was the perfect girlfriend, and he was virtually the perfect boyfriend (except for that one little glitch I mentioned.) So, what, I come home for the summer and he just freaks out and suddenly starts feeling guilty? Great, so he got over his bitch of an ex-girlfriend, and now he decides to have an attack of conscience. Wonderful. Fine. So it wasn't meant to last. I can deal with that, kinda knew it anyway. 'Course, just a few days before all of this went down, Mike tells me he's dating Mandy. Well, tell the truth, I would love to hate her, but I just can't, she's just so awesome--kind of like me in another body (little weird). Anyway, Mandy and I get along great, except now that I'm finally single and realize just how badly I probably fucked up, the former love of my life goes and falls in love with someone else. You know, I never wanted to be normal, but this is taking it just a little too far.