My Abusive Ex-Boyfriend

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I must make the most melancholy announcement to the world. I just ended a long-term relationship
with the deepest sorrow. My relationship with this gentleman could not work, and we have parted
ways.

I knew the fine man ever since I was young. We got along. We saw each other every day. As we grew
up, we spent time together yet philandered with other people. It was only natural. We were
experimenting and exploring our options. We tested different things. However, he always came back to
me and I embraced him, especially when I victoriously won the third grade multiplication race.

However, during my senior year of high school, our relationship became quite serious. During college
applications, we decided not to part ways. We were the harmonic series which could not diverge. We
would hold each other in our minds in loving embrace. He asked me if his experience with past lovers
like Newton, Leibniz, and Schr'dinger bothered me. However, I told him that I didn't mind
because those lovers only made him a better and more mature person. Therefore, we solidified our
engagement and purchased our residence in Gainesville. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with
this man. With a happy heart, I officially declared myself a math major.

Together, Math and I planned a happy future at UF. Advisors warned us that our relationship might be
in danger despite our solid 5 on the AP examination. They told us to take it slow with another round
of Calculus I. However, we needed the stimulation. We needed that mental passion. At last, against
the stars, we made a jump. We defied the world with our first step, Calculus II.

However, little did I know that our relationship would take a drastic turn for the worst.

On the first day of class, I sensed that our relationship was in danger after a blind professor came
to feed our passion. Math and I didn't connect anymore, and his weight began to irritate me in
class. Therefore, I switched classes. The next professor was even drier. Math and I couldn't
understand what this new professor would throw at us. He made sense some of the time, but most of
the time, math and I felt lost. Being the stubborn optimist, I told Math that our love could
withstand anything.

Over the months of the first semester, math and I started to drift apart. Our passionate love could
not withstand the series and sequences of unfair problems. He failed the test for divergence. We
fought so much over little problems. They would seem so simple and minute, yet their complexities
yielded many greater dimensions. Our harmonic series was inevitably diverging. U substitution failed
to help our situation. We sought help from TAs. We sought help during the professor's office
hours. We tried late night counseling in study groups. Nothing seemed to amend our relationship. I
didn't know this man anymore.

In addition, Math also became tremendously jealous. He took up all of my time. Whenever I wanted to
participate in a new club, he threatened to scar my unborn child, my GPA. He is a violent subject,
and his threats carried an incredible plausibility.

One day, I stormed off on him. I decided to pursue improvisational theatre. I participated in
college bowl. I went to the gym. As a matter of fact, taking care of my GPA started to take a toll
on my precious figure.

To my greatest annoyance, he was merciless. As a result, I did not do so well on the next test. We
were losing points, and he unfairly demanded all of my time. He made me neglect chemistry. He always
took the side of the unfair professor. I studied for this subject for hours everyday, and he
wouldn't yield.

Therefore, I started to cheat. I messed around with biochemistry. I philandered with anthropology. I
had dirty thoughts about engineering. However, I found solace in an old flame. He enchanted me with
old wise words. My mom hated him because he was so poor, but he knew how to stimulate my brain,
tease my nerdy senses, and just make me a grown educated woman.

He would send me old poetry and I would write him inflamed poems about math. I would cry to him
about how Math was abusing my blissful sanity. He heard me. Many of my friends began to encourage
our relationship.

In mid-December, I told math that it was over. I told him that I no longer loved him. To my shock,
both of us didn't mind. He told me that he, too, found a new love in Little Hall, and we parted
ways. However, he did scar me. He left me with a B+. I felt hurt and betrayed, but we no longer
belonged together. We are too different.

I will always love Math, but I am looking forward to my new life with English. He is so enchanting.
He is quite the experienced lover with many famous authors, some good, some terrible. Truthfully,
I'm quite jealous of some of his past lovers. Nevertheless, together we plan to heal my scarred GPA
due to math's violent B+. So I have three words for my ex-lover: GO TO H***!





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