My adolescent longings... Part Deux!

I wasn't done yet!

Turns out, I had more than my fair share of heartbreaks in high school. A couple of years after my first sad poem, there was yet another tragic tale in the pages of my long lost journal. This was close to my sweet sixteen, I remember this one vividly. I learned a lot about the world then, the real world and that it had a s***load of difference from the world Archies, Veronica and Betty lived in.

Years later, I would also come to know that the whole thing was set up by my own girlfriends. They obviously knew I had hots for the guy, a senior who had lost a year to join our batch. A bet was placed to fool the moderately popular teacher's pet and I turned out to be the classic nerd who fell for it.

You would scoff, get a grip, girl, it was high school! It, however, remains an old wound. I trusted my group, I loved that guy. 

Anyway, let me regale you by saying that in my early 20s I hunted up his number, called up, and blasted him with a climactic lecture. For all I know, he must have laughed his ass off! I, on the other hand, finally received some closure, as juvenile as it may seem.

But then, I am in love with those memories too. I'll never ever trade them for anything better.

Leaving an empty hole in me

Which caused me so much pain

That I thought my ribcage would break.

I looked around and only found,

A stone that would fit in that space.

The pain I had was unbearable,

So I grabbed that stone

And put it in my bosom.

It's heavier than my heart

And harder than I thought.

But it fills the hole and eases the pain.

So please don't disgust me saying,

I have a heart of stone!

Ahem! all I can say is, it was deep, way deep. 

Now, as an editor I love the poem and the story it lights up but that a sixteen-year-old-me churned out this product that probably raises my plagiarism-suspecting-eyebrow. In my defense, there's the absence of internet access, and also the point that blows to a young heart often brings out genius.

I grew up after that heartbreak though and in a good way. But damn him to hell! There will always be a soft corner for my first love, as teeny as it may be.