The signs were there. I never thought I could be so blind. At first, Brixton was your typical guy. We were together since high school. He liked music. He played sports. He liked Family Guy. Things were great. But as time went on—once we graduated, went to college, got jobs—he just… started to change. And I noticed it way too late.

He didn’t change for the worse. It wasn’t like he beat me or verbally abused me or anything like that. But personality-wise, I just couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like that snowball that rolls down the mountain. You know, the one that starts really small in the cartoons, but by the time it’s gathered momentum that little clump of snow has turned the size of a cruise ship.

I think I started noticing when we’d go out to eat. There was that subtle change in his personality. He’d never drink the beer unless it was a microbrew. He was never like that before. And he changed his diet. For a while I was telling people he was vegan, and then one day he erupted and corrected me, saying he was “pescatarian.”

He used to not care what he ordered. He wouldn’t take so long to decide. And then he’d start asking things like, “What kind of oil do they use with the eggplant?” and “Do they modify the parsnip in any way?” I guess I sort of thought it was a good thing that he was becoming so health-conscious. But at times, it was like, why are we even eating out? There was this one Saturday night at like one of the busiest places in town, and the waitress was obviously over-worked and scrambling—and Brixton, poor guy, started grilling her with questions. He literally asked her, “Where does the fish come from?”

The change became more evident in his dressing habits. There were days when it’d be hot outside and he’d wear a beanie, and not just a light one—I’m talking like stitched wool with snowflakes and reindeer patterns. On cold, winter days he’d be wearing Hawaiian shirts and flip flops. And I’m like, “What’re you doing?!”

Even my friends were perplexed at his change. Whenever there were get-togethers or holiday parties, Brixton’s oft-repeated sentences began with “Have you heard of…” or “Did you know…” followed by “the Bengals are getting back together.” It wasn’t until I sat down alone with my girlfriends and we really talked about this bizarre behavior, that the truth revealed itself. I mean, we really analyzed Brixton’s actions and the gonzo things he’d said.

Then my friend Michelle just finally came out and said it: “Laura, he’s a hipster.”

What can I say. It was like the cartoons when the wolf sees all the pretty female sheep doing cabaret on stage. My jaw hit the floor. I just couldn’t believe it. My first thought was how did I not see it? But then, maybe I would have seen it much sooner had I known exactly what a hipster was…

On our seven year anniversary, he bought me tickets to our twentieth Band of Horses concert. That’s when I lost it. I know he really bought them for himself. I mean, I like them, but don’t “like” like them. And frankly, I grew tired of the band. I just… snapped. I yelled at him and called him a “hipster.” He said I didn’t know what that label meant. I then listed the facts, all the tell-tale signs that proved he fit the criteria. He said it was hipster of me to call him a hipster. And then I said we needed a break. As hard as it was, I told him that.

In the end it was amicable. We went our separate ways, but still keep in touch here and there. We’re still distant friends. Sometimes he’ll comment on some Facebook posts with a witty or clever observation. I’m glad were both happy now.

I’ve been dating this guy a few months, and I think he may be the one. At first I was wary, you know, after ending such a long relationship. Also, I started to notice little similarities with this new one. But then I had to tell myself—this is not my ex. This is not Brixton. After that, things went great. And they still are. He says he wants to take me to the festivals Burning Man and Desert Daze, and that we just have to visit the city of Portland. I’m excited for the future.

In a way, being with Brixton, I was so wrapped up with him that I didn’t know myself. My world, everything I was into, was what he was into. So now I’ve gone out of my way to not like things people like.