Everyone I Fell In Love With While Online Dating From September 2011 To August 2012

The Woman –  The Woman had a walk I imagine finishing schools could use to instruct young girls on how to walk. Her complexion will most likely look the same 20 years from now. I liked her smile the most, always as if she had just thought of something clever.

The Professor –  Each time I saw The Professor I was reminded of the women who compete in fitness competitions on television. So it blew me away that she would teach adolescent boys. I often wondered what those boys thought when she came in wearing something like a pencil skirt.

The Policeman’s Daughter –  Arriving on our first date with more freckles than I expected, The Policeman’s Daughter wore a flower in her red hair. Though we didn’t last long after that evening, I never found much about her unappealing. In these things, however, the two never seem to have anything in common.

The Athlete – Half Native, The Athlete had long black straight hair, the kind that inspires songs. And she had a bottom so round, I could honestly weep for its absence.

The Writer –The Writer was tall with a wide frame, and along with her dark eyes it was almost like she could have been a raven. Of all those I met in that time, she could have most easily dressed as a man and got away with it. That added to her handsomeness.

The Airline Stewardess – The Airline Stewardess had a pronounced nose and a face like that in a quirky indie film. She had the body of a volleyball player, though, and always wore the kinds of clothes a housewife in the 50s would wear, primary colors, fake pearls, form-fitting tops. Somehow, she pulled it off without it seeming like Halloween. I don’t know, she just did.

The Sad Muffin – Not Jewish, though she said she wished she was, The Sad Muffin had short thin hair which she told me to call thick and luxurious. Black-framed glasses rested on her charmingly bigger nose. She had a funny smile and the way her body was, so soft, it was certain she had never played any sports. There was nothing perfect about her. There was nothing I would have changed.

The Psychologist – A candy red kind of hair, with bangs across her white forehead, The Psychologist wore a hipster-chic outfit on our one date. The frames of her glasses were large and fashionable. She spoke with a lisp, using her hands. Her smile was debilitating.

The Lawyer –  An ex-Christian with wispy, light curly hair – kind of like a baby – The Lawyer had a long neck and was skinny, though she had such a bosom. As if God decided, well, I made her really skinny, may as give her these two things as well. Her face was androgynous, and an endearing gap lived between her two front teeth.

The Traveler –  With dark curly hair – bordering on a perm – The Traveler was small, not weighing much more than 110 lbs, I think. I don’t know women’s weights. I only know she had a Little House on the Prairie kind of waist, the kind you can take just your hands and fit around. On our first date she wore a floral printed dress, the sides cut out in a square, her ribs not quite showing.

The Artist –  With dark wavy hair, The Artist wore all black and had an easy smile. Her face seemed like it was not finished developing. When I knew her it was slender and long. I made this note: you are too attractive to be seen with me.

The Wilted Flower –  With curly hair, The Wilted Flower was taller, with the kind of bottom you might see on a soccer player. She had small breasts and dimples on either side of her mouth. She had dark hair on her arms. I loved her I think. Actually, I’m sure I did.

The Archetype –  Not oceans of dense curls – like millions of piglet’s tails – The Archetype’s hair billowed out in a puffy cloud behind her. She worked as an artist and somehow had the body of a dancer. A fullness extended to her lips, where they were swollen as if they’d been bitten.

The Businesswoman –  The Businesswoman’s naturally blonde hair, she told me it was the kind “women kill for.” She struck me as someone who ran track, maybe hurdles, all through high school and college. We saw each other only twice.

The Hipster –  A Minnesota girl who spoke as if she came from Southern California, The Hipster often wore a shade of deep red lipstick that intensified her mouth. An air of defiance surrounded her, like she was always bored. She could sing well, though. And when she did I would think, maybe she’s not bored

The Cross Country Runner – Redheaded and rather petite, The Cross Country Runner had the largest nipples. I know I know I know, but they were beautiful. She had pale skin. Her middle was like a gentle dome.

The Law Student –   A ruddy face, almost like an orphan, The Law Student had freckles which increased her innocent attractiveness. Though most of God’s work seemed to have been concentrated on her bottom. Like a long unanswered prayer, finally heard.

The Hippie –  The Hippie wore jean shorts and a loose tank top on our first date, showing off unshaved armpits. Her most defining feature were her eyes, the size of plates on her delicate, dirty face. They were green, distractingly so.

The Cyclist –  Muscular from biking, The Cyclist’s legs were like thick slabs. Her arms had definition and so did her abdominal muscles. I remember that day when we went to the lake. I remember how she was in that suit. I can almost forget my own name.