It was over a year ago, last January, when my boyfriend of almost four years said, “So I have something to tell you” over a Friday night dinner in Chinatown. My appetite instantly evaporated and my stomach suddenly ached with anticipation over what would follow those words. Immediately I thought, This is the break-up dinner, and my mind whirled into a frenzy of what could be wrong when I thought we were so happy. We caught a cab and went back to his Brooklyn apartment, quickly saying hi to his roommates and disappearing into his room to talk.
Sitting on his bed, I prepared myself for the worst. Did he cheat on me? Did he lose his job? Just looking at him, I couldn’t tell. He wasn’t mad, but he wasn’t happy either. He’s usually calm, but at that moment he was nervous.
“So, I’m moving to Hong Kong for work,” was the next thing I heard. Keep reading »