True Love and Deodorant: You Can’t Keep Both in Your Life

Catherine: In honor of Valentine’s Day, here is a brief love story.

In middle school, my first boyfriend had a name consisting of solely initials. I will change them, but know that names that are just initials are ridiculous and should be banned. For our sake, let’s call him PJ.

Our story begins when his supremely attractive friend, “Mark”, called me up on the phone. He inquired if I was going to the dance with anyone? NO, I wasn’t, and I made sure he knew I WAS FREE and mentally prepared to tell everyone I knew (like, six people) that hot Mark liked me. Alas. He was calling on behalf of PJ, to see if I would go to the dance with him. I had to clarify who exactly PJ was before agreeing. Ok, yea, we have never spoken before, but we might as well go together. Sure.

From one or two slow dances later (broken down in great deal at a post dance sleepover), blossomed a three month long relationship.

Our courtship consisted of awkward eye contact, or lack thereof, in the hallway, and the occasional hug. We may have spoken on the phone a few times, but I honestly didn’t know anything about him – nothing at all. But, he was my boyfriend. So. On Valentine’s Day, he gave me a single red rose. I just about died. Romance! Passion! An extra-long hug where everyone stares at us and giggles (and during which I, myself, giggle.) I put it in my room, where it remained until I graduated high school (I know.)

Sometime after this bold gesture, we went on our one and only date to the local pizza place where I forced my best friend, Samantha (real name) to come, and hot Mark tagged along. There wasn’t too much talking.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that we later broke up when I called him on the phone from a friend’s house so that they could coach me and listen in. This was, of course, after I had gone to his middle school graduation party, been up to his room, and saw approximately 12-20 different brands of deodorant.  I didn’t have the foresight to end it on the spot.

PJ set me up for years of awkward behavior near or around guys and though sweet, I would like to blame him for messing me up.

Point is guys, have a good Valentine’s day with your co-partner, or cat, or (ideally) both. I like you all.

Red is for Valentine’s Day, and I wore it here.

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