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