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It's true what they say- the first time is the best time.

Or I guess I should say the first high is the best high. In my life time experience- which isn't much, but 23 years is enough for me to make a consensus- most things are better after you've tried it a few times. Riding a bike, sex, bacon. Bacon just gets better and better.

But anyway, the high. The first time you get high, like, it's... high. I mean hiiiiiiigh. Like, over the moon, across the galaxy, oh-my-fucking-lord-Pluto-you-should-be-a-real-plan et-because-you-are-chill-as-fuck-my-nigga far away. And it's that high you're gonna keep chasing and you aren't ever gonna get it back. You might get close, like, literally centimeters away and then you just can't reach it.

I don't really mind, because if we're being honest, that high was not my kind of high. But I can understand the feeling the day Gwen breaks up with me.

It's bad, I mean, as bad as it can be. She texts me during my rhetoric class at community college and I just sort of sit there and then I go home and I eat cheerio's and then I hit the skate park with Geoff and I'm inhaling around the joint and then we go to Dairy Queen and then I'm losing it.

I mean I'm losing it over a fucking Oreo Blizzard and I'm dying because shit this is embarrassing. Geoff just keeps eating his for a minute, and I can't blame him for not noticing because I mean seriously, dude is high and the munchies hit ya hard sometimes but damn. I wish someone would help me out; it sucks.

Because honestly, I have the right to cry at this point. I'm high and it's a bad high, like now instead of high I'm just so fucking low because do you know how bad it is to lose the girl you've been in love with since middle school? It sucks butthole, that's what, it's like getting your balls ripped off. Because I loved her and I'm thinking about that first high and I'm sure it applies to love too. The first love is the best love, and you're never gonna reach it again. I'm sure of it.

Geoff finishes his blizzard and looks up at me, and says, "Damn, your eyes are red, dude, put on some fucking sunglasses-" and I'm about to punch the shit out of him before the server who rang up our order comes up to us and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" She asks quietly.

"Uh." I say in between sobs, because at this point it's not making sense at all. Like why the hell am I crying? Oh yeah, I remember, because my life sucks ass. And then I can't remember why it sucks ass and then she's squeezing my shoulder.

"You look really bad." She sniffs and her nose wrinkles, her freckles wrinkling with it. "Oh my god, really? No wonder," She sighs, "No one completely sober can cry like that. Wait here," She mutters, before running off to the back. Geoff is still playing with his meal toy when she comes back with a few napkins and a cup. "The coffee here kind of sucks, but it's still good for getting you back to reality. Calms ya down." She wraps the napkins around the cup and then places it in between both of my shaking hands, making sure they have a good grip around the cup before letting go.

Her green eyes flash with uncertainty. "You guys can stay here for a little bit but I'm gonna need you to get out if any families come in, alright?" She doesn't give us a chance to answer before running back into the kitchen.

"Shit." I say quietly.

Yeah, maybe I'm just high. Doesn't change the fact that my dick is harder than a rock.