A year ago, I wrote an open letter to my younger self on the 7th anniversary of my first break-up.
I thought that anniversary would mark a new beginning in my love life.
Turns out, I had a few more painful lessons to learn.
. . .
Good Girls Aren’t Supposed To Good girls aren’t supposed to fall for guys with tattoos on their arms and rock music in their hearts. They’re supposed to date fresh-faced, straight-laced church boys with Bibles in their hands and solid five-year plans. But nobody warned me about Hungarian accents and brown-eyed smiles. Nobody warned me about you. You had my attention from the day you smiled and said, “You must be new.” You were the magnet drawing me in a little closer every shift. And I treaded the whirlpool of infatuation with gasping breaths Because I was Sunday mornings in the choir, and you were Thursday nights at the bar. And good girls aren’t supposed to fall for guys with alcohol in their veins and video games on the brain. So, I found myself a church boy and I prayed he’d asked me out. I daydreamed of green eyes and a sly, sarcastic mouth. But little did I know he had another girl down south and I was just a game, a round of chess to pass the time. I was a pawn; she was his queen. Guess who tumbled off the board when I forced him to come clean? It was a cold, grey day in January when those green eyes broke my heart and Little Miss "Never Been Kissed” got tired of playing the good girl waiting. 'Cuz while my tears were drying you left me a Valentine's note, promising to pick me up and drive me home. One sip of kombucha was all it took— one date, one night, and I was hooked. Two hours of jazz in your favourite bar; driving home beneath the midnight stars. We flirted our way through the day, texting into the night, not daring to call it by name but holding on to it so tight. Like Mia and Sebastian, we were two lonely hearts dancing along through a city of stars. It was a sticky, sweet secret, my flirtation with you; a broken hearts club for a party of two. It was ice cream at sunset in a riverside park, but I’m a Daughter of the light and you were living in the dark. So, in the heat of summer, I let our ice cream cone romance melt between my fingers. But I missed you every day like an addict misses her fix. Yes, I was the one who ghosted you, but you were the one who haunted me. Because good girls aren’t supposed to fall for guys with tattoos on their arms and rock music in their hearts. Good girls aren’t supposed to fall for guys like you. - a.l.w.
“Prone to wonder, Lord, I feel it; prone to leave the God I love. Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it; seal it for thy courts above.”
~ John Wyeth, “Come Thou Fount”
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Wow, this gave me chills Allana. You're gifted in so many ways AND a beautiful poet? I'm in awe haha. I love these lines especially:
"So, in the heat of summer,
I let our ice cream cone
romance
melt between my fingers.
But I missed you every day
like an addict misses her fix.
Yes, I was the one who
ghosted you,
but you were the one who
haunted me."
Also — very relatable. This "good girl" had her fair share of dalliances with "Thursday night boys". I appreciate you sharing so honestly!
Love this!