If you ask almost any twenty-something who has found their way over to the single life, they might have said once or twice that they truly believe their dating life is cursed.
As far as myself, I’m definitely one of those.
To understand you have to start at the beginning, perfect for Throwback Thursday, which in my case starts my Senior year in high school. I had just got out of my first puppy love relationship with a guy who ended up ditching me a month before prom and I wanted nothing more than to just finish the school in peace and with good grades.
One month left until graduation and on a night out my friend’s boyfriend tells me that one of our classmates we’ll just call J had a crush on me which led me to almost choke on my root beer and die before graduation.
J was in two of my classes that year, was 6’5 and had the face of a pretty boy angel.
At least what I thought pretty angel boys looked like in high school.
J was popular, a decent dresser, overall quiet in class and stayed to himself. He didn’t play any sports, was nice, and we held a conversation twice–the first time on slamming into him on accident in the hall running and the second time when we were partners on an assignment. It was then I found out J wasn’t exactly the ripest apple in the tree.