December 17, 2017:
He told her, "I don't care who you give your body to, as long as I have your heart."
That was noble, and spoken with good intent. His belief was emphatically in what was then called "free love", now would be "polyamory". The movie in his head was an ethical sluthood anchored in a deep and abiding relationship to which sex-with-others was irrelevant.
She put it into practice, he didn't.
She was new to sex, exploring her power over men, learning what it meant to be told "You're beautiful" by one and all, and to be stared at by men wherever she was. She was unhappy with him for his disinterest in the social circle she coveted. And she was frequently high. All of these things contributed along with his explicit permission to her decisions to dabble. She had affairs over summer break, a longer one in the fall, and finally a pair of unholy disasters which cemented her ultimate estrangement not just from him but from her coveted social circle as well.
He was not new to sex. He knew she was the one. He was in love. And while he constantly — as in hundreds of times throughout each day — fantasized of relationships with the dozens of beautiful coeds who surrounded them, he never once indulged. When it came right down to it, she was all he wanted.
He learned several lessons from their painful failure. Polyamory isn't right for him — what he needs is faithful monogamy. His deepest wish had been for him to say she had her freedom, but for her to choose not to exercise it. And lastly but crucially, be careful what you say.
Their breakup was deeply traumatic for them both.
You really do have to wish them each well.