After the emotional devastation that was dating Depends, I decided to take half a year away from the dating game for some serious me time and focus on turning 13. During that summer, I spent a lot of time with my youth goup at church, where the Six-Day Specia (6DS) and I discovered each other. True, we had known each for as far back as I could remember, but that junior high summer opened both of our eyes to something very special. I'm pretty sure we both felt it.

I don't really remember how the 6DS and I first became aware of our untiring devotion to each other. Maybe at her 13th birthday party. I remember the highlight of the party was the giant New Kids on the Block poster someone had gotten her. We flirted that night, shared a Pepsi out of the black and neon cool cans (please someone tell me you remember the Pepsi cool cans in the 80's. They had Young MC do the commercials for these things, and some of the cans supposedly had hundred dollar bills in them that would pop up when you opened the can. If you remember this, leave me a comment and be my hero) and even exchanged some knowing looks while we watched Indiana Jones and the last Crusade on video. Probably one of the first girls I knew who really had boobs. That night I realized she was definitely the girl for me, though I'm hesitant now to attribute this decision to the boobs factor. At the time I probably didn't even know how cool boobs can be.

The following Sunday night, after youth group concluded, I garnered all the confidence I could muster and pulled her aside and asked if she would go out with me. I don't know where I found the ability to do that - I wouldn't really find that capability again until the later years of my college career - but for some miraculous reason she said yes. Then we all went to Wendys and had a frosty. And that's where my mother picked me up and took me home. Until next Sunday, I thought as she slowly grew into a little speck out the window.

I called her on the following Wednesday, mostly because I thought I was supposed to do that. (Boyfriends do that sort of thing, no?) Probably one of the sillier conversations I have ever had. Didn't know what the hell to say. The conversation probably maybe lasted five minutes and we talked about absolutely nothing. But I assured her I was excited about the idea of seeing her the coming Sunday. Then I went downstairs to watch my Saved By The Bell tape from the previous Saturday for the third time that week.

I arrived at youth group that Sunday night looking for the 6DS but only finding two of her friends. I asked them if they had seen the 6DS, and one girl, who also happened to be about six feet tall (why is is that the friends of my ridiculous girlfriends are always giants?) told me that we needed to talk. Uh oh. So the two friends and I go into the old sanctuary, and they sit me down.

"Chris," the giant says to me,"the Six-Day Special really likes you, and that's why she wanted us to talk to you. The distance thing is just too hard for her. So it's just going to have to end, okay?"

I wasn't sure how to handle this. I know I simply responded "okay" and tried to look despondent as I left the room, but my emotions were in something of jumble at this point. I'd just been dumped by a girlfriend I'd never really seen in person while we were dating (and by the six-foot friend at that) because it was too hard. The distance thing wasn't working. Even my pitiful 13 year-old brain could comprehend the fact that this whole idea was ridiculous. We hadn't even really seen each other the whole time we were boyfriend-girlfriend. I hadn't even touched her or held her hand, though Lord knows doing so would have absolutely terrified me. The whole thing just seemed silly.

The best part of the break-up evening was that I then had to sit through our hour and a half youth group meeting and see the Six-Day Special and pretend that everything was okay. And when I walked into the meeting room, I saw her sitting with the new guy in youth group, the blond guy with the gel in his hair and the earring. All the girls loved him. I hated that guy. I always have, I always will. And there's my recently ex-girlfriend, the Six-Day Special, paying him some pretty solid attention. So I just collapsed into my usual spot on the smelly couch obviously purchased by the church in 1972 and waited for the meeting to start.

I spent the whole meeting trying really hard to look depressed and upset because I guess I thought I should have felt that way or something. Maybe I wanted to make her feel guilty for breaking off such a promising relationship. Then toward the end of the meeting, I realized I didn't give half a shit about the whole thing, and that night I skipped out on the weekly trip to get frosties and waited for my mother in the parking lot.

Following such an emotionally devastating happening, I decided I'd become a total loser and never draw the attentions of another girl until my senior year of high school when I met Airport Song.