I don't think about my high school boyfriend a lot. Frankly, there isn't much to think about. We were 16, I had a car and a rockin' bod (he did too for that matter). We had a small disposable income and a summer with which to do anything we wanted. We had basements and siblings who were friends. And parents who wanted to see us happy. There wasn't much to us, and that's what was so great about it. We loved, we lost, we moved on. It was simple, easy, non-cerebral (thank you roommate for reminding me of that awesome word). But, it taught me a lot; he taught me a lot, mostly about myself, things that I would have never discovered, or worse, discovered when I was older and had regular access to beer (see: binge drinking on a work night).
16 was a very scary place for me. I was smart and had ambitions. I also had insecurities the size of that really big bridge in Canada (see: Confederation Bridge). I finally got my braces off and had never really kissed a boy. I had straight A's without having to try very hard. I was 5'6" and weighed about 112 pounds (and never missed an opportunity to exercise). No one had ever really expressed romantic interest in me. I felt like an ugly duckling, convinced boys would never like me. This in turn made me Miss Sass, Miss Snide Comment, Miss "Leave me the fuck alone because I'm probably better than you." Oops.
High school boyfriend, you weren't earth-shattering, and neither was I. In fact, we both kind of sucked and it probably wasn't the healthiest of relationships. But, I loved you. And I think you loved me too. We had fun, a lot of it. And you showed me how cool it is to connect with someone, how great it is to get stupid about someone, and how awesome it is to kiss someone sober. It was heartbreaking when we broke up. Somehow, that meant that I wasn't loveable, likeable, or attractive. Obviously, this has since been proved false, but learning the lesson of vulnerability is always a hard one.
High school boyfriend, if you're reading this, I hope you're well. I hope you know that I think of you with incredible fondness. I hope you know that I respect you and what you meant to me when I was 16 and just learning how to use a debit card with a pin. Also, thank you for breaking up with me. If you hadn't, I certainly wouldn't be the person I am today, and the thought of that is terrifying. I might not be as calm, accepting, apprehensive, understanding, or excited about my future if you and I hadn't been brought together and then taken apart. I couldn'tve done it without you.
So, uh, are you seeing anyone special?
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