Tortillas and Butter

Ya know, first loves suck. We've all had them. I have rarely heard of one of them working out long term (it happens, so I don't need a bunch of emails telling me so, but man is it rare). I don't really think it's fair that we have to experience first love's. I mean, could there be any higher stakes to a "first" anything in your life than the very first time you hand your heart over to someone who is as big an idiot as you are?

Invariably your heart gets busted up. Before long the wheel spins the other way and you are standing and looking at someone who has somehow decided that you, of all people on earth, are the best thing since Mac & Cheese and, yep, you have to bust THEIR heart all to pieces. Blink, blink. Then the tears. Ugh. It's like a trip to the dentist.

I grew up in a mostly Mexican neighborhood in Hawthorne. I learned very quickly as the only white kid at the party that pinatas are dangerous, man, and ya gotta move quick when that stick is flying. But I also learned  the simple joy of a tortilla smothered in butter, so it wasn't all bad.

That being said, love has got to be the biggest pinata in the world. We all take a swing at it, hoping for a piece of that sweet candy inside, and instead most of us just end up taking a stick to the forehead. We either whiff and over-swing when it's our turn or get too close when it's someone else's turn and end up seeing stars.

I think the only purpose of a first love (you Romeo & Juliet types out there aside) is to get on with your second true love and maybe your third (if you've gotten past three you have either have loved too swiftly or lusted too easily). That's when you finally learn that lopsided love isn't true love, only when it's shared equally is it real.

For those of you still waiting for love? Hang in there. In the meantime? I suggest tortillas smothered in butter.