Story Weekend: First Broken Heart
You know you’ve had one, unless you were incredibly lucky! I’d love to hear about yours. (note I’m not sharing mine. . . )
If you’re new to Story Weekend, here’s how it works: I pick a theme and you share something from your life that relates to that theme, however you interpret it. Thanks to all of you who’ve been contributing. As always, there are a few “rules”:
▪ The story must be true
▪ Try to keep it under 100 words. Embrace the challenge! That’s about six or seven lines in the comment form. I want others to read your story, and most people tend to skip if it’s too long. I know how tough it is to “write tight” but I hope you’ll accept this as a challenge.
First love. Two year relationship. I was devoted to him.
He became distant almost overnight: when he was with me, he was never really there. Day by day I lost myself as I lost him.
The night felt different as I returned from taking him home. We’d spent the evening in silence, as if we were strangers.
A small letter sat on my pillow, propped up by the black bear toy he had brought me from Canada, his gesture of love. It ripped my innocent world apart, crushing every ounce of my strength.
I’ve locked my heart away now.
My first broken heart came in grade 8. I had a “boyfriend” in grade 6 and 7 who was just a friend. We hung out with a couple of other people, walked to and from his ballgames and I watched all of them from the sidelines. Sometimes I got to wear his ball hat. I however was considered a good girl (which I was) and he outgrew me in grade 8. I wasn’t the kind of person you invited to a party (especially if there was booze – I could not keep a secret from my parents at all) and really we were more friends than boyfriends. I missed him or the idea of him. when I think of it now no one I knew was as “sophisticated” about dating as they are now. However a broken heart does hurt.
Peter was my first love, we were thirteen and met at the local park, on the swings. One evening, I realised it was past my time to be home. Peter walked with me and apologised to my parents for keeping me out late. My hero, it was true love. Next morning I was waiting for the school bus and was told a boy had been hurt in a road traffic accident, the night before. It was Peter, AND he had died in the early hours of the morning. It broke my heart; I’m fifty-eight now and have never forgotten him.
College. Two young veterans, friends, starting school with me. Older “men.” I fell in love with Navy guy and was teased unmercifully by my friend who thought I was in love with Army guy. I did everything I could to attract the attention of Navy guy. Army guy asked me out. I was very disappointed. Never heard from Navy guy again. Young love is very resilient. Married Army guy.
First love— endless poems and prose written spilling out on paper the sense of loss and desertion and hurt. Everyone told me it was just “puppy love” but I knew they were wrong. .My junior year in High School- he was the singer in a rock and roll band. How devastated I was that he chose going on the the road for success, leaving me behind in a pool of tears. I followed his band, listening hungrily on the outside and not daring to go inside. I once drove 5 hours to bring him his leather jacket because I knew it was going to be cold that weekend where he was playing . His response was colder than the frigid wind that whipped around, causing my waist long hair to tangle on the buttons of the coat. On to college, and marriage and two children later while having the conversation with my Dad, I told him he was wrong, I knew love at 16 as I know it now. Years have gone by, I have four children, three grandchildren and think of him often, His career was successful but it was over before I had even had my third child. He lived the emptiness of his decision; he never married, and lives in a tiny apartment and found solace in alcohol. There is a happy ending of sorts, I loved him then, I love him now and we talk on the phone at least once a week. He no longer drinks, but he lives in the quiet little apartment on the second floor looking out the window of lost opportunities. thank you for reading this.(think I will go call him now)
omigosh, some powerful stories here!
I was 14, he was 16. We had one summer of that heady, all encompassing, giddy kind of love that only a young first love can bring. When summer ended he told me that he was moving away. We both cried and I don’t think I’ve ever felt heartbreak like that since. After he left, I would walk by the house where he lived, and see the “for sale” sign and the empty windows, and feel hollow inside. I’ve never forgotten him, and probably never will. Does anyone ever forget their first love?
I was 17 and so was he. He was my first adult type love. I thought my world would end if he were not in it. He gave me a Teddy bear that I slept with every night. He broke my heart on a regular basis. I thought he would change when we married at age 19. He didn’t, but I did. I ended up breaking his heart after 3 horrible years when I told him that I did not love him anymore and wanted divorce. He said, we will talk about it. I said there is nothing to talk about because I do not love you love you anymore. I finally felt free of the abuse and I never looked back.
I had my first broken heart when I was 6 years old and the person that broke my heart was my father. When my dad came home from Viet Nam my parents marriage fell apart. My dad opted to completely disengage from my life. My whole childhood and teen years left me wondering why? I reconnected with him 6 years ago and he came to my uncle’s home for Thanksgiving to see me. We were taking baby steps in our relationship but unfortunately he suffered a massive heart attack 5 months later and he died. I still struggle with that loss.
oh Michelle. xoxoxo
Thanks Diane. Thankfully I had a wonderful mother who never uttered a bad word about my father to me. She made sure that my brother and I had a relationship with his family throughout our lives and ,today, those are some of my most treasured relationships. It wasn’t great but it could have been a lot worse.
Diane, I didn’t realize how sad this subject was going to be. I probably could have answered this question with a passion when I was much younger. Everyone has that first “love” and heart break. Life has a way of erasing the pain. Looking back I know I had my heart broken, but I can’t remember it like I did when I was young. Even experiencing the loss of my grandparents did not compare to the day my Daddy died. I know now that losing my dad was the first time my heart was truly broken.
I met my first love when I was only 13, although it actually began as an infatuation! He was 17 and much too old for me but since he was the cousin of one of my best friends we also became friends and while we wrote for four years my infatuation matured into a lifelong friendship. When I was on the brink of 16 and finally old enough to date I was still too young to date him so my family refused when I asked if he could come to our New Year’s party. He dated another that New Year’s and although not broken my heart was certainly wounded. One year later, at 17, we began dating and our four year friendship evolved into a profound love so we married 3 years later. I am truly blessed to be “incredibly lucky,” for I am still married to my first love and after 47 years of marriage my heart remains intact!
This is definitely a great love story..:)
I met a person in school who was mysterious, day by day we became really close together and best friends. I never met a person who listens to me and cares about me like her. And this came to an end.
She broke our friendship for someone who doesn’t deserve a kindness and friendship at all, although she promised me that she will not leave me for someone but she was not good enough to keep the promise…