WORST ROOMMATE EVER: My Roommate Stole My Boyfriend Not Once, But Twice

My bitch of a roommate had stolen my boyfriend from right under my nose once again.
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Lindsay M.
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My bitch of a roommate had stolen my boyfriend from right under my nose once again.
University bar selfie with my sister; long before selfies were a thing

University bar selfie with my sister (long before selfies were a thing). 

University is supposed to be full of epic parties, staying up late, skipping class, eating cafeteria food and forming lifelong friendships. I had this notion in my head that I would meet people that would make lasting impacts on the rest of my life. I finally felt like I was where I belonged. 

That is until I was betrayed not once, but twice by my university roommate.

I was happily in a relationship with a guy, let’s call him Bob, who I had been dating on and off for the past three years when I started university. We knew it was going to be a tough transition dating long distance, but we decided to make a go at it. 

I only had one roommate in university; let’s call her Sarah. Sarah and I knew each other through mutual friends before we moved in. Based on what I had seen I knew that she loved to party, had lots of friends and was single. It took only two months of living together for her to turn her manipulative ways on me and convince me to break up with my boyfriend. What I didn’t realize at the time was that she was after him for herself.

Sarah took what I thought was an immediate dislike to my boyfriend. She said that he was controlling, never let me have any fun, wasn’t fun himself and called me way too often. She even told me that he flirted with her when I wasn’t home. 

Sarah told me that university was supposed to be about living it up, about meeting new people, going on dates, and not being tied down with a boyfriend. The truth was that, somewhere deep inside me, I knew I wanted to experience university as a single person. I was tired of calling my boyfriend every night because he was insecure, and I was tired of going home every weekend to see him. 

So at Sarah’s prompting I picked up the phone one night and broke up with him. And, in his words, "I broke his heart."

Our love was not meant to be.

Our love was not meant to be. 

It turns out that this was Sarah’s master plan all along. What better way to snag a guy than to go after one who is heartbroken and vulnerable, especially when you already have his phone number? Bob did not want to let things go with me and he called every day for the next few weeks. 

Fortunately for Sarah, I avoided his calls and let her pick up the phone every time it rang. What I didn’t know was that she didn't just tell Bob that I wasn’t there, she also talked to him for hours. Sarah told me that she was talking to a guy she had met in class and I gladly left her alone to chat with him. 

Bob eventually stopped calling; or so Sarah said and I figured he had accepted things and moved on. It wasn’t until I walked into the university pub and saw them cozying up at a table that I realize what an idiot I had been.

Sarah and Bob were now a full-blown couple who held hands, attended parties and walked to class together. I was alone, without my boyfriend and without my friend whom I had confided in. They didn’t make it more than a couple months together. By this time, Sarah and I parted ways for summer break.

Fast forward two years later and I was in search of a roommate for my third year of university. I had scored an awesome apartment but couldn’t afford it by myself. One of my friends suggested I call Sarah up as she was looking for a room to rent for the year. 

By this time I had gotten over her stealing my boyfriend. I had moved on, grown up and realized that we were young and stupid. But, in fact, it turns out only one of us had grown up. 

Sarah and I moved into our fabulous apartment and things were going great. We were both single, ready to buckle down on school work and had jobs that kept us busy. And then I met George. 

George was so wrong for me in so many ways, but I was addicted to him. He was irresponsible, didn’t have a good job, lived on people’s couches and loved to party. Everyone told me to stay away from him but I couldn’t resist. We fell hard and fast into a serious relationship and I was happier than ever. 

Sarah didn’t hide the fact that she shared everyone’s opinion about him; but that didn’t stop her from high-fiving him, grabbing a beer with us and putting up with his shenanigans. He semi moved in with us, brought his giant dog along and we co-existed peacefully for months.

That lasted until that fateful day when I walked into the apartment -- a few hours earlier than expected as my shift was cut short -- and found the two of them together. Literally together. My bitch of a roommate had stolen my boyfriend from right under my nose once again. Except this time she didn’t even have the decency to try and break us up first. 

I was furious, disgusted and asked how long it had been going on. At this point, Sarah knew our friendship was over and decided to fess up. She told me that this was not the first time they had hooked up. 

I went into a blind rage: I threw his stuff out of my room into hers, packed my stuff into backpacks and I left the apartment never looking back. I stormed into the rental office, told them I was breaking my lease and paid the few hundred dollars it cost me. I never spoke to either of them again.

Sarah looked me up on Facebook about seven years later and tried to add me as her friend. I thought about it for a moment and then realized I had absolutely nothing to say to her. As far as friendships go, ours was never honest or real.