"It's not you; it's me"

Actually no. It's you.

The restless all-nighters, designer bags under my eyes, and ugly Betty crying was due to you.

Our story started like any other - new, exciting, full of wonder, not knowing where this newfound relationship would take us. A relationship where we spoke of exciting concepts such as natural selection, sodium-potassium pumps, and genetics. A partnership where I sharpened your pencil and, in return, you sharpened mine.

Our first date was magical. You took me to the glimmering castle known as Edmon Low. As you led me up the grand stairs to the second floor, spread out a blanket woven out of planning forms, and put the projector above our heads with the "Fire and Ice" slideshow gleaming - my neurotransmitters made my heart go pitter patter. Hannah Montana replayed over and over as I told myself "He could be the oneeeee".

But as the semester progressed, we started to travel 90 mph down a dark and dreadful path. A path that would lead to F's on tests and hours upon hours of couples therapy, also known as 'tutoring'. Our relationship could have been labeled as emotionally abusive. You hurt me in more ways than you know. Do you understand the effect labels have on women? Labels such as "68% and 55%'s" have scarring effects that brainless and abstract individuals - such as yourself - don't fully comprehend. Restless nights trying to figure you out ultimately left me in a fragile state.

I stuck it out as long as I could. I gave you so many opportunities to fix your selfish ways. I put in hundreds of hours trying to decipher just exactly what you wanted from me. My manuscripts were never enough for you, my smiley faces on my papers were never enough, my unwavering attention in class was never enough for you.

So I have made a decision. Your curriculum is great, your healthy heart is great, and your assistance in achieving my degree is great. But it's time to move on. We don't go together like Ben and Jerry's icecream, Ken and Barbie, or even Peanut Butter and Jelly anymore. It's over, Biology. The semester is coming to an end which means that our time together is running out.

See ya on the flip side, Bi-no.