Hush, hush, don't tell me tell me ‘cause it hurts.

The other day at work this girl was talking about the first time she got her heart broken. Apparently a boy who worked at her local McDonalds stole her heart and ran off with the girl who made the fries. Apparently she was displeased with that. This made me think about the first time said heart breaking happened to me and how overly dramatic I was.

Let’s go way back in the day. I am 15-years-old and just started High School. The girls and I thought we were adult women just starting out in the world. This High School thing was only a formality since we were brilliant and ready to take on anything! We wore a shit-ton of lipstick and lip liner (gross!). My girl Monica has most of the blackmail photos which I pray never see the light of day again. This was a sad time in our fashion history.

Being the first week of school we were obviously scoping out the boys. We were outside on lunch one day chatting it up and my friend Brandy said to me “OK, so you have got to pick a boy. Everyone else has. Which one do you like?” Feeling put on the spot and not particularly interested in any of them as of yet, I scanned the scenery. Saw a decent enough fella. And I pointed at him saying “uh, that one… I guess.” Much to her delight this was her cousin (by marriage or something I don’t remember the details). So she quickly introduced us.

I don’t remember how it happened exactly, but we were pretty much an item from that point on. He and I spent every day after school together. He walked me to my classes each day with a PDA at the drop off. How lame and embarrassing is that? Eww! He was pretty much my first grown up kiss too and he later told me I sucked at kissing and gave me a complex. I still worry that my kisses are lame, although I really don’t care as much in my old age.

Everything was delight, sunshine, pop music, and happiness. I had a boyfriend and I liked him, he was cool! We went to the Homecoming and Sadie Hawkins dances together. Neither of us was old enough to drive yet. Teenage life was good. This was until one Thursday afternoon. My friend who introduced us decides to have a little talk with me on our walk home from school.


Brandy: So when do you plan to ‘you know’ with C?

Me: 'You know' what?

Brandy: You know, DO IT. With him.

Me (taken aback): Ohhhh. Uh, never. I don’t ever plan to do that with him. We’re kids dude. Maybe if we stay together and grow up and stuff. Maybe…then. Maybe.

Brandy: OK cool. Yeah, I totally respect that.


And the very next day I was gently dumped. Apparently Brandy was on a mission to gather some info for my bf C. I had been ambushed. Blindsided. Things just weren’t “working out” anymore he said. We could “still be friends” he said. B freakin S. Whateves.

Boom. My happy little fairy tale life (aka like 6-weeks of time we dated) crushed by the dark cloud of evil boy meanness. I spent that night at my bestie Monica’s house. I cried until I was dehydrated. I cried to her, to our other best friend Dawn, and also to Monica’s older brother Phil (who may have quite possibly been drunk that whole time. We suspected it). I cried Nancy Kerrigan-style “Why?!? Whyyyyy?!!!? Why?!?” for hours. That night we slept on the trampoline even though it was late fall and freezing. I think we woke to frost on our blankets, seriously! My best friends were amazing. They didn’t even mock me and I totally deserved some mocking that day. Then we walked to Media Play and bought some CDs and ate candy. And life went on.

A few weeks later first ex-boyfriend was dating J, a girl with pretty blond curls that wore a lot of bright red lipstick and was known for being “friendly”. They lasted 2-weeks together. And she did, ‘you know’ with him from what I heard and they still didn’t even last as long as he and I did. Bullet dodged - one point for me!

If I could go back and give teenage me a word of advice it would be: Don’t ever take it personal and just let the boys go chase themselves. So anyone else wanna share their tale of their first heartbreak? Eh? Eh?



I'm including this song because we all danced a lot after school at Monica's house. That ex brought this song around. He came from California where everyone liked to dance a lot. Just because it was hip I suppose.