It ended with a mixtape.  Eighteen songs she would grow to hate.

He had tricked her into liking him, into believing that he was anything but the asshole that he truly was. Asshole.  She breathes it every time she hears the name.  She should have spent her time on the foreign guy with the Joaquin Phoenix stare.

While she lay aimlessly in bed not quite ready to wake, she let her imagination drift over the missed opportunity.  With his degree completed he moved back and now all that separated them was Central America and well, most of South America too.  The travel fare she could not afford to say I've been thinking about you for the past three years.