The Break-Up

Stephanie

Keith R. Higgons
The Memoirist

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Some people come into your life as a blessing.

Some people come into your life as a lesson.

This is a story about the latter.

Stephanie and I never had a formal “thing.” We never defined it — we hung out, slept together, and told ourselves and each other that we were in love.

In retrospect, the best, perhaps only, thing to call it was a distraction.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Stephanie and I met, working for the same company. I can’t begin to describe what we did — my eyes glaze over just thinking about it. Suffice it to say, it was a job, and we worked 3p-11p in the financial district of New York City.

There was obvious chemistry between Stephanie and me immediately. Stephanie was smart, sexy, and fun to be around but off-limits. She had a live-in boyfriend — not one she spoke highly of, but she had one. Besides, after a self-imposed two-year dating hiatus, I was beginning to think about dating; the last thing I wanted to do was get entangled in that kind of thing.

By the very nature of this article, I know what you’re thinking — famous last words.

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