I wrote a blog last week that I haven’t posted yet. I was walking out of the subway this morning and for some reason I remembered this story and felt like telling it. When you read tomorrow’s (or Friday's) blog it will all make sense… well, maybe.
Once upon a time, I was young and in college. I, a southern belle, dated a Northerner from New York. He was cute and curly haired and from good stock. He was the Dewayne Wayne to my Whitley Gilbert and at 20, I thought we could live happily ever after someday—like when we were old at 25 and ready to have kids and raise a family. LOL!
I was a year ahead of him in college. When I graduated, I stayed home in MD for the summer while he went back to New York. When school started for him, he came back South, I headed North to grad school at NYU. For all holidays and summers until I graduated months later, we were in opposite states—except for those random weekends we took the bus or train to visit each other.
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