Anatomy of a Broken Heart

A Teenage Love Story

I've never been known to be at a loss for words.

My tongue spits an incessant rhythm of useless sounds.

I seem to suffer from permanent verbal diarrhea,

But when you looked at me,

Your pupils slick,

A childish grin adorning your lips

(one of the few times I've seen you smile)

Darling, you left me speechless.

And although our thoughts are muddled by slurred fingers

And our ideas are invisible to others

We converse through the modern age,

Texting becomes our words.

Slightly ironic, but still so

Desired.

I can almost see you,

A faint grin splitting your face

As you read the messages between us.

At least that's what I do.

And it's bad enough as it is,

My mind running wild,

Creating stomach clenching "what-if's?"

I can almost feel your palms on my waist,

The ghost of your eyes upon me,

The gentle whisper of your breath

Rolling over my neck,

All leave me shivering.

You ran your finger down the index of who I am, and flipped to the parts that interested you the most. But then you read each page.

You turned corners, and made me happy.

It was as if I, was your favorite book.

And you nicknamed my loud mouth, short skirts and "abbreviated elegance" a personality.

Your name, previously unspoken, now oozes off my tongue with ease

When my family asks how you're doing.

My poems are now romantic,

And filled with lovesick words.

I blush more.

You moved building with your eyes,

And when you looked at me?

Well, I've never had anyone else stare at me with such intensity.

Your name is Max

And you wear denim jackets.

You guide the blind with your velvet voice,

And can revive the dead-of-heart with one of your kisses.

I believed in you.

Especially when you said you loved me.

But you feared the dark side of the room,

And hesitated to trust the sun's light.

So you clung to my chest as if I was your last breath.

I reckon I loved you back.

We both doodled.

And wrote.

Our favorite color was orange.

You always knew how to make me laugh,

And when I gave you a flower, you put it in your hair.

You made me nervous, in a new, unfamiliar way.

You walk fast, except with me,

And you love your guitar more than anything.

Your favorite word is morose,

You think you're not photogenic,

And you think you're an idiot.

I don't.

In fact, I've never seen anyone so perfect.

My skin practically boils under your gaze, and I know I'm a goner.

I begged you to let me go, before it was too late,

But around you I don't get butterflies,

I get fireworks.

Frothy explosions that leave me breathless and dangerously close to falling over.

And for some reason I trust you.

But then again, it's so easy to lose interest.

For a childish romance to lose its appeal.

And the only thing you can do is hope no one comes out too broken.

And I wasted away, getting lost in this pathetic, disgusting situation.

I got lost waiting for a boy with brown hair to tell me I was beautiful and compare our love to some stupid fucking metaphor only he understood.

How to break up with your boyfriend in 10 easy steps:

Step 1: Pick a reason. The simple "it's not you, it's me" will suffice. Don't tell him the real reason. Never let him know,

Step 2: Tell your friends. Only a few of course. Like, your best friends. And swear them to secrecy.

Step 3: Ponder.

Step 4: Figure out the details. How? When? Exactly how?

Step 5: Ponder again.

Step 6: Call him, and don't leave a message. Do that 3 more times.

Step 7: Actually tell him you need to talk.

Step 8: Doubt yourself. Do you really want to throw away a year? Throw him away?

Step 9: Do it. Steel yourself and get it over with you stone cold bitch. Ignore his sparkling eyes and quivering lips. You're more important. Choose yourself.

Step 10: Regret it.

I wish you broke up with me.

Provided a stepstool to help me hate you.

It's human nature to fall in love with memories.

You are still the first thing on my mind when I wake up.

And I care for you now, deeper than I ever did when you were mine to care for.