Many of you have asked me how The Ex and I met and why we broke up. Here’s the short version.

The Ex and I met in a film class the first day of winter semester of my junior year of college. We were both communication majors, and I had noticed him in other classes we had taken together during previous semesters. He was tall, dark, handsome, Jewish, and very outgoing. His wardrobe consisted mainly of shorts and fraternity party t-shirts. When it was cold he would throw on a fraternity letter sweatshirt. He socialized primarily with other Greeks. Meanwhile, I was a shy editor at the school newspaper, and just beginning to come out of my shell and develop into the person I am today. I had a negative impression of the Greek system, and didn’t care for fraternity guys in general. But then…

We were sitting next to each other waiting for the professor to welcome us to class. I was eating a snack (butter pretzels, yum), and noticed he was sitting next to me. I said hello, we started a conversation, and I offered him a pretzel. From that day on, we met after class each day, grabbed a bite to eat, and then hung out at the fraternity house or my apartment and got to know each other. I quickly became a walking fraternity party advertisement, and even bought him a letter sweatshirt as a gift. Holidays were soon spent with each others families, our parents and siblings were introduced to each other, and we talked about getting married. And that my friends, is how it all began.

Fast forward two years. I had finished school and he was still doing the eight-year-plan with the rest of the brothers. This of course meant I was working and he was still partying away. I had just gotten my own apartment, sans roommates, and he was still living with his parents. He asked if he could move in and I told him no. I explained I wanted him to experience living on his own for a while before living with me. (i.e., I didn’t want him to go straight from living with his parents to living with me.) Not to mention, I wanted to be engaged. Apparently, this didn’t go over well with him, as he wanted to move in first, then get engaged. Things between us quickly went from bad to worse, and we eventually broke up following a disastrous trip to Mexico.

Shortly after calling it quits, he asked me what he needed to do to save the relationship. I told him three things: 1. Move out of his parents’ house. 2. Graduate and get a job. 3. Quit hanging out with the 18-year-old fraternity brothers.

And, in true The Ex fashion, three years after that conversation, he called and said the following: I have my own apartment, a good job, and I don’t hang out with the brothers anymore.

And he’s been calling ever since…