“You told me from the start,” he says. “That you were only seeing me because you were depressed. That we would break up eventually. Once I met a girl I really liked.” “Yes, I did.” “You said you would turn into a good girl, a virtuous one, and leave me for good.” “Yeah, so don’t worry about me,” I tell him. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to run off and become a nun or start drinking or anything.”
