when we were together, there was a kind of bone-deep loneliness that permeated my soul and made me ache in a way I couldn’t bear. When he snapped at me, “I don’t need a postmortem on this,” I said that felt exactly like part of the problem. There was never any real talking, never any real depth to us. I wanted to tell him what I learned about first love being the kiddie pool, and how great it felt that I had just climbed out of it and taken the plunge into the ocean. “We didn’t hit the heights you required,” he said. “Is that what you’re telling me?” “I’m telling you that my heart was crying
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