Not all of my relationships have failed or have been stictly carnal in nature. I was thinking back to the days when I was loved, no a better description would be worshipped like a goddess or an angel. I was taken back to thoughts of seventh grade.
In seventh grade this boy named James loved me. But our love was not allowed because events that transpired in fifth grade.

We went on our first date in fifth grade. We went to see Vice Versa (a truly forgettable movie) and my dad chaperoned. Dad sat two rows back and James was bold enough to try and hold my hand underneath the popcorn we were sharing. His touch was electrifying, even though he only grazed my hand for a few seconds before my dad coughed and ahemed us. A couple of weeks later apparently we weren't moving at the pace that he was hoping for. His sister was in high school and was giving him tips (apparently his sister was a little fast and I'll explain why later). Fifth grade our love was not meant to be, nor was it perfect.

In Math class, a note was passed furtively toward me...but it was intercepted. James's face was crimson. What could the note say that was so bad? He wouldn't even look at me. Typically, he'd walk me to my bus. But I was left standing alone, black book bag in hand. Crestfallen.

I got home and my dad was waiting for me. "You are no longer dating until you're eighteen," in true drill sargeant fashion (I didn't mention that part did I??)
"Why," I implied in a whiny fifth grade voice. James was my true love! How could he tear us apart?
"Because he tried to pass you a note that asked if you had gotten your period yet...because he wanted to (at this point my loving daddy stumbled over his words) F- you, not my words honey, his!"
I blushed. "But Dad, we haven't even kissed yet!"
"There will be no yet!"
And so my dating career ended as quickly as it had begun.

So back to seventh grade. James and I were star-crossed lovers. He had explained that his sister told him to ask this very important question in the note. He explained that he loved me, and only me! He told me he didn't care if I had gotten my period or not and then he whispered, "It's pretty gross anyway isn't it?" I was a good seven inches taller than him and I loved his short little self right back (apparently I have been fooling myself and I've always loved little men--who knew? All those football players in college were a ruse I guess--joking). But our love was not meant to be. My dad would not budge. No dating. Period. (no pun intended)

On Valentine's day, James got down on one knee with a rose, and a stuffed kitten and asked me to the Basketball Dance. I told him, and this is an actual, melodramatic statement from the little me that was, "James...I will always love you, but my dad will let me go to the dance with Christian...so, I'm going to go with him. I hope that you understand. I just really, really want to go! My dad will never let me go with you!" With that, I crushed his little heart. Hence all the bad dating Karma since...at least that's what I like to blame it on!