Finally Too Old For Your Drama
Language: en
Blair broke up with me again. This time, I thought I’d do what I did the first time she dumped me when we were eighteen: head down to the riverwalk to cool off. But the wind coming off the water was biting, a sharp, physical reminder that I wasn’t a teenager anymore. Forget it, I thought. Just go home. On the walk back, I passed that greasy spoon diner on the corner. I expected my stomach to be in knots, the way it was when I was twenty and heartbreak felt like a terminal illness. Instead, the smell of grilling onions hit me, and I realized the cook was on his A-game. I was…