HH Special: Lost Lovers Sour

My past relationships always appeared passionate and evolving until my boyfriends were faced with next steps caveats and realized I was not the one worthy of taking upstairs to the court house. I was simply the perfect vessel to work out all of the kinks. The one to share secrets with, cook a meal with, throw an irrational tantrum in front of about needing their space, but still calling me to help them find their lost air buds. Someone to experiment with. Someone to introduce to their parents. Just to see how it feels. To become a more permanent fixture apparently required an ethereal experience, something I could not deliver. I certainly didn’t change, transcend, in the midst of their growth spurt. If anything I handed them a diploma and showed them the world was so much bigger than just us and this sourdough starter we had birthed together.