I’ve always been a little, shall we say, boy crazy—and that’s putting it very mildly. So the fact that my first major broken heart didn’t hit until I was 15 is kind of a miracle, considering that I’d been falling in love with boys since I was five. But when my heart fractured into a million little pieces, it did not go quietly into that good night.
I was deeply, hopelessly in love with Jared. Unfortunately, so was his girlfriend, Leah. Oh she was a horrible creature: dumpy, hairy, mean, abrasive and domineering—your basic nightmare. My agony was made so much worse because of how she treated him. And I knew he liked me—everyone knew it, it was so obvious! He just needed to untangle himself from Grendel (Yes, that’s what I called her. In public. This kind of bad behavior on my part will be a recurring theme, just you wait!) and he’d be mine all mine!
I was too young and shy to be pushy or demand that he either stop flirting with me or break up with her. Instead, I preferred to seethe in the shadows, badmouthing Leah to anyone who’d listen. Charming, right?
But then one day, Leah and Jared broke up after she cheated on him. And suddenly, he was mine. We went on dates, held hands at school, and talked on the phone nightly. I couldn’t actually believe it was happening, it just seemed too good to be true.
That’s because it was.
I still don’t understand how he pulled this off in the fishbowl that was our high school, but Jared managed to date both of us at the same time. I found this out through one crushing text:
I’m back with Leah. I’m sorry.
Just like that. You know, you assume it’s gonna be huge, complex, catastrophic things that will change your life, but sometimes it boils down to one awful, dagger-through-the-heart text.
I’d never felt pain like that before, it was all-encompassing like a solar eclipse, blocking out everything else in my life. Suddenly, my entire existence revolved around missing and hating him. I wept openly at school (cute!) and since I was class president, I used my weekly PA announcements as an opportunity to play terrible emo music and hurl thinly veiled insults at the two of them—over the school loudspeaker. THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED.
But it didn’t stop there, oh no. My BFF, bless her loyalty, formed the UAJ Club, which we claimed stood for Unity, Amnesty, Justice but very clearly meant United Against Jared. I MADE A SCHOOL CLUB ABOUT HATING HIM.
The worst part was how bitter I became. Jared not only took his love away, he stole my cushy, fluffy ignorance about just how much pain one person could feel.
Looking back, what I remember most isn’t my love for him or even the pain, but the horrendous way I behaved. My whole life revolved around showing the entire world how hurt I was. Um, this wasn’t the first broken heart in history, and probably not the worst, either. One day my mom said “You know some people have real problems. Cowboy up and get over it.” She was right. I was wallowing, and making things way worse, truthfully.
Now, I (try to) maintain a little bit more composure or at least direct all my crazy at something healthier than revenge. I said I try. A life of sanity and dignity. It takes time, girls.
Have you ever had a broken heart? Do you think I went too far in the way I treated Jared? Tell me in the comments!