Thursday, March 1, 2012

On Forgetting Your First Love

I used to read a lot of Bukowski, a lot of it. He used to ask me why and I would answer "he isn't like Jesus and sometimes I need to believe in something more than that." It used to help, the reading not the Jesus. Jesus never helped. He didn't understand why. I didn't either.

I remember one time we were driving back to his house, I think he wanted pizza, I think it had mushrooms on it and he picked the mushrooms off. We were driving back to his house and he took my CD collection, all of them, all my years, my heart, my investment and threw them out the window of a moving car. "Jesus doesn't like when you listen to that junk." Jesus didn't like Queen, everyone likes Queen.

When he got his credit card bill each month he looked like a deflated balloon. I knew he wanted me to offer to help and sometimes I regret not having offered to help but I knew he would never pay me back. "Jesus will make a way" he said. And he lead you right to the unemployment line.

He loved cheese. One time we were at that gourmet food store, he knows the one, the one with the giant mâché strawberry on the roof. He said "lets try to make our own Saganaki tonight" so he picked out the cheese and he picked out the brandy and found the biggest, juiciest lemon he could find and then we went to the cash register and then he waited for me to get my wallet out. Perhaps Jesus did make a way for him.

I always told him to never quit, to be the best at whatever he chose to do although he chose to do nothing but feel sorry for himself and he was the very best at it. He always thought Jesus had dealt him a bad hand, a 2/7 offsuit. His parents were stingy, he got bad professors, no one recognized his talents, the interest rate was too high and the starting pay was too low.

He said "I love you" for the first time on the phone, we were dating for a little over a month and the girl he thought he got pregnant was still in love with him.

Still I miss the city, the way the light posts looked like floating orbs on a snowy night and the local pizzeria that made 'the special special' and the two yippie dogs and the way his dad helped his mom bring the groceries in. I think he used to love me, I think he tried the best he could and the best he could was a Chinese buffet on Valentines day and the emotional connection of Bukowski and eventually I stopped reading so much Bukowski, a writer like that isn't a role model but my Jesus how he helped.


  1. Oh i remember the days of a young girl in dier need of ATTENTION lost for acceptance. Overweight and insecure. The only thing that kept her together were the constance lies and the gossip of others. The girl who stood for something at one time. Traveled thousand of miles to hide from one thing she did to others. Hiding fro m your need of wanting someone and something. After 3years blogging about a man who supports loves and cares for his future wife that will never be you. You are the past never the future. An image,memory that has been forgotten. Stop making him sound like he never treated you right. You want to blog about someone ill post the truth of a girl you stalked him screamd at. Him and the pity party you tried playing on my family poor one cared. You did alot of shitty shaddy things. Ive never seen him so happy. Never a fight and always laughing. Just accept it wasnt you. Andknow if you want to post about my brother ill blog the truth so everyon e will know the true you.

  2. I'll write about whatever I see fit. I find it humorous that the same girl who leaves public status updates about how shitty men are, your ex is, your current bf is has the balls to persecute me for sharing my feelings. Get over it, it's a blog.

    As for the couple at large I couldn't be happier that two people found each other and make each other happy. I NEVER wanted it to be me hence the reason I left.

    I could delete you comment but it's too funny. Thanks for the morning laugh.

    Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go make out with my ridiculously sexy, kind and beautiful British boyfriend.


  3. I assume English isn't Sierra's first language however I doubt anyone would or could read her blog exposing the 'true you'.

    Incidentally I had a 'Ford Sierra' once. Very reliable car and can be found cheaply on if anyone is interested.

  4. Love is one powerful emotion that binds people together. First love. Ah. I remember mine after reading your post. :)

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