I first fell in love at eleven years old
and felt the heartache down to my marrow.
Free-falling, unaware, drowning in bliss;
I didn’t see the noose till I was over the cliff.
The first day of school was when we met.
She liked Pulp Fiction, U2, and Johnny Depp.
In less than two months I was hypnotized—
she smelled like sugar and had such sad eyes.
We went on walks; she told me at the park
how she hated her body and showered in the dark.
Unaware of her beauty, she couldn’t see
how anyone could find her so lovely.
Her parents had split, her mom was ill and broke;
When her dad visited he just watched TV and smoked.
Before I met her I knew nothing of the world.
I never knew such sadness could be felt by one girl.
True happiness was hard since she didn’t love me too.
But I could make her smile, and that was what I lived to do.
I swore to rescue her, get her out of that place,
put the spark back in her eye, and dry her tear-stained face.
Nothing prepared me for the pain that was to come—
I caused a rift between us with my witless tongue.
I said something rude and foolish that she could not ignore.
It wracked my soul with sorrow, for our friendship was no more.
Forgiveness came after I moved to a new town.
With time, old wounds were healed, and she came around.
Twice a year she’ll contact me and I’ll drop her a line,
but we don’t talk like we used to and she knows why.
