When I was 17, I experienced an important rite of passage…my very first heartbreak. And it was more brutal and agonizing than anything I could ever have imagined. He was a boy I met at a party who stirred me in a way I can’t quite articulate. I felt something that no one else had ever made me feel before, and no one has since. We talked every day, hung out on weekends, and he had this way of just making me feel alive, of making me feel like everything was OK. It ended because I wanted things to be more serious and he was a freshman in college and wanted to be young, stupid, and free, not tied to a relationship.
I was absolutely devastated, crushed, gutted from the inside out. I was interning at US Weekly magazine at the time and what I most remember from that period was replaying everything about our relationship on loop every morning as I took the train into the city, and every evening on my way back home. I couldn’t stop, no matter how much it hurt.
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