Remember your first ‘real’ boyfriend? Remember when you two broke up? My friend, Chelsea, is going through that right now.
Chelsea belongs to my Beautiful Friend, Lisa…but she’s my ‘friend’ and not just my friend’s daughter. I’ve watched Chelsea go from a little girl to a beautiful young woman and from extreme happiness to tears. My heart is breaking for her.
My first heart break came from Ethan Thompson. I didn’t understand why he wanted to be my boyfriend and then would break up with me a week later.
I wouldn’t kiss him.
The truth of the matter is at 15 I had never been kissed by a boy. The thought of a guy leaning in for a kiss would make me so uncomfortable that I would turn 18 shades of red and my stomach would growl uncontrollably. I’m sure it’s those two factors that saved me from being a teenage parent.
Ethan was from San Diego and I was from Shingletown, to say 2 different worlds is like comparing Earth to Uranus (sorry, I just wanted a reason to say your anus) and I wasn’t a city girl at all. I get lost in a paper bag and on one way streets. He owned a skateboard and those crazy bangs. He smoked pot. He was way too cool for me.
Out of all the girls he picked me. It wasn’t out of the normal for me to become friends with the new kid. I guess I was easy to talk to and I didn’t try to shove my phone number in his locker between every class. I actually dated a lot of the cute guys in school…they just all broke up with me…because I wouldn’t kiss them.
Ethan broke up with me more times than I care to admit. He kept coming back though and I kept saying ‘okay’.
The break up that broke my heart was the one where I finally was told WHY I was being broke up with.
There’s something to hearing about your downfalls during a break up that make it worse.
Ethan said I was prude and an ‘ice princess’. Jeff said I would never amount to anything & would drive a pinto. Matt said he liked Carrie better. Falamoe….well, there’s a good chance that he was gay…and a good chance that might be my fault because I wouldn’t kiss him.
My heart was broken into a million pieces and I wrote every painful moment down. When I heard that Chelsea was hurting, I pulled down that diary and I read it again. I cried for the little Kristine and I cried for Chelsea. I know when my girls get their heart broken the first time I will cry again.
Chelsea still reads my blog even though I mention horrible things like breast hair and *wiggling eyebrows*, but this one time I will allow her to read it so she can read the comments that you’ll all leave her telling her that she’s going to be okay…and share a little of your first heartbreak.