Letting Go And Pronouncing My L's-Personal Narrative

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Love and Loss: Lessons in Letting Go and Pronouncing my “L”s Sometime during my first or second year of preschool, I came to the conclusion that it was about time to settle down and find myself a man. Out of all the studly snot-picking suitors also sitting in two-foot tall chairs clumsily fumbling with crayons, one in particular caught my eye, probably because he sat directly across from me. His name was Luke, and he had brownish reddish blondish hair, I think, and honestly I do not remember much else other than his sweet pleather motorcycle jacket. The first few weeks of our whirlwind romance were largely tacit. I stared at him a lot, too scared to say anything (an expert dating tactic I apply to this day.) Our relationship was especially …show more content…

In the eighth grade, I dated a boy named Ben. He could ride a unicycle and sew, and we sat next to each other on the bus to the learn-to-ski program. Before it was assured that he like-liked me, and we officially dated, I was head-over-heels for this boy. I was planning on asking him out soon when we went to the Black Ice Tournament at White Park. It was there we ran into Lucy Arsenault, who was one grade above me, a very cool, very mature high schooler whom I had known for some time. Sometimes in middle school she would let me sit next to her on the bus, and tell me about her even cooler older bisexual sister who would drive her to the mall. Flip phone in hand, it was mere minutes before she procured Ben’s phone number. I did not think all hope was lost, but when I was making plans with Ben that night to go skiing that weekend, he told me that he now had a girlfriend! This was real heartbreak, and I listened to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie on my mom’s iPod nano until Tuesday, when they broke up. Lucy became one of my closest friends later on in high school, and joke’s on her because now I’m dating her brother, and it’s been way longer than a week. After its tumultuous beginnings, I went on to date Ben for over a year. He was my first kiss, and wore grape chapstick for the occasion. I was far too shy and nervous to ever say much to him, and he had a habit of disappearing. Once went to Israel for a month without bothering to tell me. After seven months of dating, he forgot my birthday. We were born six hours

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