My First Breakup

I called her to see what she wanted to do tonight.  Saturday was an unspoken date night in high school.  Well, at least for the guys with girlfriends.  Myself, I was in the throes of my first relationship that lasted more than a kiss by the swingset in kindergarten.  Eight weeks.  Pretty good for a first shot at romance. 

I wanted to see if she wanted to go out to dinner.  I promised I’d behave, not like the last dinner date we had when we promptly went to Brian’s.  Ten shots later, she saw my dinner again.  Evasive answers where she’d usually been quite willing to do anything with me.  The county fair.  Driving around looking at Christmas lights.  Hanging out with her weird friends. Listening to her eclectic taste in music with Garbage and No Doubt at the top of the list. 

For no apparent reason, Don’t Speak began playing in my head.  She’d been getting distant of late, and suddenly it became crystal clear.  This was the last phone call I would ever make to her.  She broke my 17 year-old heart over the phone.  I almost cried out the lyrics to the song as she dropped the bomb.  I had no idea it was coming, but as it came, I almost mouthed her words as she dumped me.  To this day, hearing Don’t Speak brings back that Saturday afternoon.  The emotions.  The crushing feeling that seems so ridiculous to me now.  The song that made me cry every time I heard it for several months afterward now brings a smile to my face as a lyrical reminder of my naïveté.