Oh yeah! I KNEW it was over when...
My ex-boyfriend and I had been dating for two years. We were both sophomores in college, although we attended different colleges. He was an athlete and...well...I was ME!
As an athlete, his duckets weren't really poppin' off and all so he didn't have like, a car and stuff...anyways...
He sorta "stayed" with me for awhile and I would allow him to use my car when I was at class. I mean, what would I do with it during the day anyways, besides, parking at UCLA is a task in itself, so I didn't trip.
Well, during finals week, I decided that I'd drive the (read=my) car to campus to study. I knew I would be doing so indefinitely, because "hello" it WAS finals week. Well, when I returned, this fool had the NERVE to be pissed off at me for not returning in time for him to do something he had planned to do already. Did I mention the car was MINE?
Aw, naw, that ain't it...
I KNEW IT WAS OVA WHEN...
After I expressed to him that the car was mine and I really didn't owe it to him to return at a certain time especially for something like STUDYING (don't ask why I was even explaining), he THREW a drink he had in his hand at me. I mean he THREW it! No it wasn't a dixie cup, it was one of those big 'ol, big 'ol drinkink cups. It hit the wall behind me like inches from my head.
Did I mention we were in MY apartment?
Well, the next day, I rounded up some of my football playing homies and Frat and had them escort me (to my own crib) to get this brothah out. I really feared that he may do something when I broke up with him...I didn't really end up NEEDING the men I brought, but I felt safer in case he tried to throw some stuff at me again, plus, he was (literally) 7'1" tall.
Okay, sorry so long.
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