Monday, November 19, 2007
there's more than one way to earn an "A"
"I bet he has a shrine to you now!" he interjected, eyes bright at the melancholic romance of it.

I had just finished telling them about my first *love*, how I was fifteen and thought he was perfect, how I frequently let him cheat off of me in English class, how after six months of pining I eventually bore it all in that birthday card, and about how painfully his inevitable rejection burned. The point was that we all get hurt, but that however acute it may feel in the moment - especially in those teenage moments - it all ends up being dimmed by time. (Not to mention that he, like so many first *loves*, ultimately turned out to be a bit of a toolbox.)


He's fifteen, living in a world where justice is poetic, love blurs into obsession, and regret manifests itself in anguished shrines erected to wasted opportunities.

“No, really! I bet he feels awful and totally worships you, has a shrine with pictures and candles and voodoo dolls soaking in chicken blood and everything!”

Of course the idea is macabre, absurd and more than a little unsettling, but even still -

what a perfectly sweet thing to say!


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