I don't like bad boys. I like boys who are nice and I generally view girls who go after bad boys as having low self esteem and/or stupid. But I'm not stupid and my self-esteem has always kind of sucked but it's not so bad that I voluntarily choose to go out with a guy who cheats on me, is physically violent or acts like a total douche. So how did I end up with a bad boy? A really bad bad boy? I don't know.

I met Brett at a house party sophomore year of college. I heard Black Sabbath coming from the basement, and there he was, playing drums. He wasn't super handsome --long ratty hair, skinny build and a nose that looked like it belonged on a Muppet. His playing was what did it. Ridiculously fast. Unnecessarily loud. He played like he was playing to a stadium of thousands. When the band finished there were splinters from his drumsticks and little broken pieces of cymbal all over the floor. I picked one up and put it in my pocket.