drugs & candy

72

Looking back at the shitty, smitten-with-love poetry I have in this journal makes me nauseous. I was just this sixteen year old girl smitten by love and obsessed with an eighteen year old boy. Obsessed is a strong word, actually. Little did my sixteen year old self know that he would be my first love. And no, I don't regret that relationship whatsoever. But maybe we shouldn't have been too involved with each other. Talking about marriage, kids, the future-- it's all too much for a girl who just learned how to drive. I wish I had known that. I wished my mother had explained that better to me. Now three years later, here I am wondering if I'll ever feel that way about someone again. Maybe I will but to be honest I think I won't ever let myself be as naïve as I was ever again.