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"  By the time Justin knocked on my door on Tuesday night, I had changed my outfit three times. What does one wear to be officially broken up with in person? Ultimately I decided it was a black tee and jeans as distressed as my relationship.  &amp;quot;Hi,&amp;quot; I said, opening the door wide so he could come inside. I tried not to notice how cute he looked in his white t-shirt and failed. The weather had warmed up over the last few days and the thin material clung to his slim, chiseled body.  Justin sat down on my couch and rested his hands on top of his knees. &amp;quot;How are you?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;To be honest,&amp;quot; I said, perching on the edge of my TV stand across from him. &amp;quot;Not that great.&amp;quot;  Justin nodded. &amp;quot;Me neither.&amp;quot;  I took a deep breath and started, &amp;quot;The first thing I need to say to you is that I was not bringing that guy Richard home to hook up with him. I thought he was gay\u2014you remember me talking about him and Kate, right? How she kind of got on my nerves at first and how she made that comment about Richard becoming our gay best friend?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I remember,&amp;quot; Justin said, sounding irritated.  &amp;quot;So you believe me, right?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s just that, Josie,&amp;quot; Justin shook his head. &amp;quot;That guy didn&amp;#039;t look gay. He certainly didn&amp;#039;t act gay.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You met him for two minutes!&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Yeah and even in those two minutes I could tell he wasn&amp;#039;t gay. You must have known too.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;No, I didn&amp;#039;t,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;You do realize that not every gay man looks and acts like a contestant on RuPaul&amp;#039;s Drag Race, right? Because you sound like a gross bigot right now.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Oh, so now I&amp;#039;m a gross bigot?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Well, with this whole, &amp;#039;He didn&amp;#039;t look gay&amp;#039; thing&amp;quot;\u2014I stopped. We were getting off track and hurling accusations at each other wasn&amp;#039;t going to accomplish anything. &amp;quot;This isn&amp;#039;t the point. This isn&amp;#039;t why I asked you to come here. I promise I only asked Richard to come up here as a friend. Nothing more. I hope you believe me.&amp;quot;  Justin didn&amp;#039;t say anything and he refused to look at me.  &amp;quot;You know what this feels like to me?&amp;quot; I said.  &amp;quot;What?&amp;quot; Justin finally met my gaze.  &amp;quot;Like this is your out. Like if you believe I was going to cheat on you, and if you can tell people I was going to cheat on you, then it&amp;#039;s not on you that we broke up.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Josie,&amp;quot; Justin said, his voice louder than before. &amp;quot;You broke up with me in a text. You gave me a fucking out.&amp;quot;  Well, he had a point there. &amp;quot;I agree that wasn&amp;#039;t the best way to handle it,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;But I didn&amp;#039;t pull the trigger out of the blue! You bailed on me Saturday night, and then you bailed on me again on Sunday. And not just for brunch or something\u2014for Mother&amp;#039;s Day with my parents who were expecting you. It was humiliating to show up without you. Then, you refused to talk to me about it!&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I was throwing up all morning! There was no way I could have made it out to New Jersey.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Please,&amp;quot; I scoffed. &amp;quot;You weren&amp;#039;t throwing up because you had the stomach bug. You were throwing up because you were hungover. Would you have gotten that drunk the night before a big presentation at work? Or before your sister&amp;#039;s wedding?&amp;quot;  Justin didn&amp;#039;t say anything so I answered my own questions. &amp;quot;No, you wouldn&amp;#039;t have, because you prioritize those things. That just showed me that spending time with my family was not a priority to you. I would never have done that to you if the tables were turned.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re reading wayyyy too much into it,&amp;quot; Justin said. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m sorry. Drinking so much that I couldn&amp;#039;t make it out to New Jersey with you wasn&amp;#039;t the smartest move. But it wasn&amp;#039;t as calculated as you&amp;#039;re making it out to be.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Maybe it wasn&amp;#039;t,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;But I think that on a subconscious level that&amp;#039;s what was going on. Which is still a problem.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s not like I refused to spend time with your family,&amp;quot; Justin shot back. &amp;quot;We&amp;#039;ve done things with them before.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;One time,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;How many times did you bring me along to your family events? And major ones, at that?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ve seen your parents more than one time,&amp;quot; Justin said, clearly avoiding my question.   &amp;quot;You haven&amp;#039;t,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;The half-marathon brunch. That was it.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You know what?&amp;quot; Justin stood. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m not going to sit here and let you berate me like this. I was good to you. You wanted a relationship? I gave it to you. I told you I loved you and that still didn&amp;#039;t make you happy. Jesus.&amp;quot; Justin rubbed his face with his hands.  I sat there a moment, just taking in what he had said. When I finally spoke, my voice was dripping with sarcasm. &amp;quot;My gosh, Justin, thank you so much for granting me the great honor of being in a relationship with you, and for telling me you loved me to make me happy, not because, you know, you really loved me or anything.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Come, on, Josie,&amp;quot; Justin said.  &amp;quot;You come on. This is what I never got about you\u2014it&amp;#039;s not like we were just a booty call and I was delusional about what we were. We were hanging out every night, going on vacation, doing things with each other&amp;#039;s friends and families, dealing with a major health scare\u2026what normal person wouldn&amp;#039;t, after a few months of that, say, &amp;#039;Hey, if it looks and smells and acts like a boyfriend, maybe it&amp;#039;s a boyfriend?&amp;#039;&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;The second you put on a label on things, everything changes,&amp;quot; Justin said. &amp;quot;And that&amp;#039;s exactly what happened with you.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Nothing changed,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;I didn&amp;#039;t ask for anything more from you than for you to stop freaking the fuck out every time someone referred to me as your girlfriend. You torpedoed this from the start because something about &amp;#039;the label&amp;#039; makes you extremely uncomfortable.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Because I&amp;#039;m not ready to be in a serious relationship!&amp;quot; Justin said. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m young, I don&amp;#039;t want to be tied down.&amp;quot;  I snorted. &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;re 29. Not 21.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Well, I lost a few years so maybe I&amp;#039;m just trying to make up for them,&amp;quot; Justin said, softly. That, after everything, brought tears to my eyes.  &amp;quot;I see,&amp;quot; I said, clearing my throat. &amp;quot;Far be it from me to get in the way of that.&amp;quot;  Justin and I stood in silence for a few moments. Finally, Justin spoke. &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t want you to hate me,&amp;quot; he said.  &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t want you to hate me,&amp;quot; I repeated. I gave him a sad smile. Justin took a step towards me, paused, then closed the distance between us. He wrapped his arms around me. I let my forehead rest against his chest for just a moment before pulling away.  &amp;quot;Well, my sister isn&amp;#039;t going to be happy about this,&amp;quot; Justin said, clearly trying to provide some comic relief.  &amp;quot;No, she isn&amp;#039;t,&amp;quot; I agreed. &amp;quot;Why does she want this to work so badly any way?&amp;quot;  Justin shrugged. &amp;quot;I think she just wants to see me settled down. And I think she&amp;#039;s worried I&amp;#039;m not going to be able to find someone who&amp;#039;s okay with me not being able to have kids, like you were.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Oh,&amp;quot; I said. Just the thought of Justin eventually settling down with another woman made me feel sick to my stomach.  &amp;quot;I guess I should go,&amp;quot; Justin said.  I nodded. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m glad we were at least able to do this.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Me too,&amp;quot; Justin said. He started towards the door. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ll, um, see you.&amp;quot;  I highly doubted I&amp;#039;d ever see Justin again, but I repeated, &amp;quot;See you,&amp;quot; back to him. Once he shut the door behind him, I curled up on my couch and started to cry. I didn&amp;#039;t even really understand why I was crying. I was confident that ending things was the right thing to do, but it was still heartbreaking to think that Justin would never be a part of my life again. After a while, I drifted off. The next thing I knew it was morning and my phone was buzzing with ten million texts from Ashley and Nina asking how the night went.  Everything&amp;#039;s fine, I wrote.  So you guys are back together? Nina wrote back.  We&amp;#039;re over. And I&amp;#039;m fine with it. As I wrote those words, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I really meant them.  Want more from Josie? Follow her on Twitter @BedroomBlog "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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