He Said and I are forecasting an especially low level of readership this week, due to the fact that school is closed the day the paper comes out.
Well, we’ve decided to take advantage of this to share with those few dedicated people some of our deepest secrets you may not have known about yours truly.
Something you may not have known about me is that I once dated my cousin, accidentally. Despite being awkward and practically a giant in junior high (5’9, same as now), I somehow managed to get myself a boyfriend .
I’m using the term “dated” very loosely since it pretty much meant we went to the movies with 12 other people but sat next to each other and we danced only with each other to all the classic slow jams they play at junior high dances.
If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.
Needless to say, our love came to an end. You can imagine my shock when he showed up at my grandfather’s wake that same year.
Now, a reenactment of the dialogue that took place after he walked in:
“Hey, it was really mature of you to come to my grandfather’s wake even though we’re not together any more,” I said, questioning why we ever broke up at all, more drawn to him than ever before.
“What?” he asked, confused, but obviously still very in love with me and wanting me back more with each passing moment.
“I just really appreciate it. It’s nice having a friend here and I’m glad that even though we broke up, you still cared enough to…”
I didn’t get to finish.
“This is your what?” he asked, confused more, but still clearly pining to embrace me, pull me in, and whisper softly in my ear his undying love.
“My grandfather’s wake,” I said, so surely that he was here to declare he would always be with me through thick or thin and hope that sometime he would earn back my love and respect.
“This is your grandfather!” he proclaimed, clearly overcome with emotion and devotion. “That guy’s like my great uncle or something!”
Yes, sure enough, it turned out that we were third cousins or something. And that’s pretty much set the tone for my love life up to this point – one disaster after another (though I hope that was my last relative, knock on wood).
When you’re an Irish Catholic from Boston, you’re bound to accidentally hit on a cousin at some point, right?
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