Hey there,

Remember me? The girl whose heart you broke at the tender age of 16? You hold a distinction in my life, the one and only to ever break my heart. Sure, other guys “dumped” me but we were hardly dating so I hardly noticed. But you, you were my first “love.” Although we never said those words to eachother when I look back what was it if not love? Puppy love perhaps. Deep deep infatuation. And truck loads of chemistry, the kind of chemistry that leaves you spinning in circles. Whatever it was we had, you broke it. You needed to fly, you were young and your ego mattered more to you than me so you cut yourself free.

I remember just like it was yesterday, sitting in that Chinese restaurant in Bethesda, watching my tears fall into my beef pepper steak while you held my hand across the table, trying to console me. Our attentive waiter stopped by every few minutes, confused as to why I was crying, does she not like her food? he thought. Why the hell did we still go out to eat after you dumped me? I think you paid, at least you did that.

I cried over you for days, hanging onto the hope you would change your mind. You finally did but it was too late. You were jealous of every boyfriend I had after, of every guy I flirted with and who flirted with me and you deserved it all.

Later gator,


pup·py love
an intense but relatively shallow romantic attachment, typically associated with adolescents.