So Tired: A Girls Recap

Memories of past love are tough to contemplate at young ages, but it happens to most of us because we are all made of guts and mush that liquefy like meat left out in the sun if they go unused. In your 20’s you drink too much or ingest too much of something or overthink yourself into catatonia. But it sometimes starts even earlier: your loss, your heart’s wonder, regret. When I was 11, the first baby I ever held hands with was a peppy blonde girl with knee socks and pink Keds who lived up the street. Her name was Christie. She moved too fast for me at the time, but once I turned 12, I was ready. I hit puberty, so did she, but she’d already moved on. So I was too late for the first time and in order to sublimate my small pain, I wrote her a love song. More »