A Thursday some weeks ago, Jake returned home to visit his girlfriend, Lisa. I'd invited him out to Temple's Got Talent, but jealously commended the excellent evening ahead. Later, after being wildly impressed by the talent at my fair university, Facebook informed me that my friend had been broken up with during his evening home. It hurt to see such a good couple go down, myself in the lingering pangs of self-pity for my illegitimate loss. However, that put me in the right mindset for reading his "I want you back" letter. The sweetness in his rambling, incoherent letter was more affecting for its sense of desperation. Despite the hurt, they are young and in love.
Even though I was in a similar situation, the letter was alienating. It felt so young. I've played the cynic so long it's habitual, and the passion is unsightly to me. How old I feel. I used to wish for that sort of ideal abandon.
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