Dear Greg T–,

You were my first love. Well, the first boy I loved that I’d actually spoken to. It was junior high. You had braces, and so did I. I’m not really sure why I junior-high-loved you so much. It might have been that dark green shirt you wore. Even today, I can picture junior-high-you in it. Maybe it was the way you wore your 80s hair straight up in the front. Didn’t you win “Best Hair” that year in 8th grade? Or maybe it was your smile. I’m not sure. I just know that I used to listen to “Shake the Disease” over and over again to try to get myself not to like you. (I don’t think junior-high-me really understood those lyrics. But that’s understandable, given the overwhelming nature of my heart-break.) Yes, you broke my heart, Greg T–. But that’s okay. Lots of others have done the same. So, you’re nothing special. I just hope adult-you doesn’t have a beer gut because junior-high-you was so cute.

Love, Mrs. Darcy