Tropical Storm Samantha

When I broke up with her, it was over the phone, pathetically, two thousand miles away from her, my brain two hundred feet down a well. I explained, as sincerely as I could manage: It wasn't her; it was me; not her fault I was breaking up with her because of somebody else's dream.

Let me explain. We dated for the latter half of our sophomore year of college: The whirling, wild-haired beauty, half sorority girl and half hippie and me (experimental, uncertain, struggling to reconcile my behavior with the remnants of my Christianity and figure Read more