My ex-boyfriend and I shared a very nice conversation this morning. It was 4:30 a.m., and I was manning the front desk, listening to a burnt CD of Garbage b-sides. I believe '#1 Crush' was playing -- how apropos. He walked in carrying a bag of groceries, and I smiled and said hello. Not wanting to be the jealous bitch I've been for the past six months, I didn't stop smiling until he left the front desk.

He said he was tired of the gay scene, how there was nothing for him at the clubs, and how he was returning from a party that he 'didn't want to go to in the first place.' I told him that it was OK to take a break from the scene but that he shouldn't disappear entirely lest he lose contacts with his friends. I tried to be very positive, and I continued to smile.

He asked how I was doing, and I said I was doing well. 'At least one of us is,' he said. I told him to cheer up, and he hugged me before he left. That night, he was in my dream. He is so beautiful, and I am so mad at myself for having these feelings.

But all ex-boyfriend melodrama aside, I am living on campus next year with my friend Alex. I am very excited. The end.