Fast forward a few months, and we’re hanging out every weekend, just as every other couple would. Except, we didn’t really discuss whether or not we were a “couple”. Neither of us were talking to another person in a serious manner, and we did go out with each other a handful of times, yet neither of us really called it anything like a “date”. To be honest, we didn’t know where we were headed. His friends all knew me as “his girl”, but then again, they were all of age to drink, heading off to their jobs and happy hour after. I was still making myself shirley temples and going to fraternity parties for free alcohol.
By this time, I had just planted my feet in the soil I knew as my university, and I had just gotten to know who my true friends were. He, on the other hand, was getting ready to pack up his apartment and move back home, already set with a job offer in hand and a promised diploma in the other.
