The reason I started dating “Carmen” was because she wanted to be featured on this blog. For better or for worse, for the last year most of my dating exploits have ended up on here. Several of my friends joke about this, Carmen knew this, and on an unusually warm evening in mid-winter on a Richmond rooftop, Carmen told me, “I want you to write about me. I want my name to be Carmen.”

The first time I heard about Carmen, my friend texted me I had to meet her new friend, I would love her. I didn’t know if she meant platonically or romantically, but I was interested either way. When we finally did meet, I felt immediately attracted, but Carmen was also so not my type. Physically, she was—tall, athletic blonde with Cate Blanchett’s profile. Yet, her resume read in stark contrast to mine: Mississippi transplant, sorority princess, Homes & Garden cover girl fresh out of a two-year engagement with another one right before that, all before the age of 30.