Remembering My First Real… Breakup

The last kiss that we had was by my car,
Two nights after our most romantic night.
My first true love became my first big scar;
We broke up without so much as a fight.

She was away at school where she then met
A guy; and love had forced her to admit
That his was love like none she’d known as yet.
So she hung up the phone. And that was it.

I sat there brooding, my father inquired;
I told him why I looked so out of whack.
He said, “At least she was honest with you.
And not cheating on you behind your back.”

I sat there shameful, for I didn’t know
He known of my dalliance all this while:
I felt my foolish anger start to go,
My frown of rage became a sheepish smile.

He said, “My son, now that’s an honest girl.
She treated you with honor, not with stings;
I hope one day, as you go through this world
You will prove yourself worthy of such things.”

Oh worthy I was not – not at that age.
For I was fickle, false and just a mess.
My first real breakup hurt only my pride
The love had died by my own selfishness

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