The girl I loved first had yellow hair, a funny nose, and unbridled optimism. She danced to the Doors, and her father once caught me with my hands under her shirt, Saturday Night Live on his TV. I made her cry when college came. The second girl I kissed at a bonfire, fireworks filling the night. Her eyes. My temper and tequila and frat parties killed what we had She left my heart in a ditch, wanting to die. The third one almost got away with my brother’s best friend. But I fought. When her lips touched mine, my heart healed. I married her by the ocean, in a cold drizzle. When we quarrel, I wish for the other two.
I like this a lot. I can't quite put my finger on what it is that makes this seem so... real, but it's there and that's enough.
