I'm not really sure when I lost her… she was with me through most of my years in college. There were other girls—not a lot of them, mind you—but a few more than one, yes, I confess. I thought she was up for the adventure, up for the excitement... I never dreamed that she was just trying to keep up.
I guess she has good reason to be bitter. I don't expect her to thank me for disappearing—but doesn't the time we did have count for anything?
I wonder if she'd have been happier with her French windows.