As the self-proclaimed president of the Forever Alone Society, I have had my fair share of kissing my mom at midnight on New Year’s and organizing singles-only Valentine’s Day sleepover parties, where I wake up alone with obscene things drawn on my face and the menu screen of “Bring It On” playing in the background.
I have had epic crushes. These crushes of mine, as many girls might know, were characterized by a disproportionate amount of time spent thinking about a particular boy. All of these epochal crushes resulted, sooner or later, in the boy discovering the dramatic secret. But they were never informed through the grapevine, oh no. Rather, the messenger was me, face-to-face and heart all aflutter every time.
Unsure of how to classify your quasi-relationship when your hookup sits you down to DTR? Try one of Roxy’s animal metaphor terms (patent pending) to perfectly encapsulate the expectations and tendencies of your protracted liaison.