My First Heartbreak

also my first age-gap relationship. Circa Y2K

 As my golden jubilee looms and age-related content feels apt, I took some time to recount and reflect on my first age-gap relationship. It was also my first heartbreak. I was half my age then, and he was a decade younger than I am now.

Believe me, that was some wild math to calculate.

Me around that time with a mullet-shag I cut myself, a WTC banana necklace, and brown vintage Levis corduroys. Anyone got an ID on the tube top? Can’t remember.

Here’s a snippet:

“Due to his own recent heartbreak, Nick was a bit forlorn and emotionally unavailable the entire two years I knew him. But I was an unwatered plant that needed tending to by a 40-year-old British, ex-punk, ex-heroin junkie (his word, not mine), anarchist, DJ with an eight-and-three-quarter-inch penis, growing weed in his backyard garden in Echo Park in the year 2000…I was 25.”