Dear Diary,
On a recent afternoon walk through Columbus Circle I turned to my boyfriend, who was in town visiting for the weekend, and asked him, “Isn’t New York in fall wonderful?†It was the most picturesque Saturday I had witnessed since I moved here in May â€" the colors, the crisp air, the absence of summer street smells.
“I guess,†he replied with a shrug. “I mean it’s slightly more tolerable.â€
I was shocked. For seven months his plan was to join me when his job in Cleveland comes to a close next year, which was the impetus behind our decision to do long-distance. I had naïvely never imagined that the man I loved would be so apathetic toward the destination I had waited 12 years to call home.
Sure enough, later that night he told me his doctored plan to move to a small village in France next year instead, and a week later we broke up.
I am relieved I don’t have to divide my attention between two loves anymore. New York can stand a lot of things, but I don’t think she cares much for apathy â€" especially when she’s showing off. And I just won’t tolerate hurting her feelings. Bonne chance en France!
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