<iframe src="//www.googletagmanager.com/ns.html?id=GTM-K3L4M3" height="0" width="0" style="display:none;visibility:hidden">


My First Love

30 August 2014

9:00 AM

30 August 2014

9:00 AM

I made the mistake of getting in touch with him
twenty years after – invited him to stay.
He was almost alcoholic, had lost his front teeth,
told endless anecdotes and, worst of all,
was allergic to my dog. You’d think that’d be
a cure or antidote to all those years of unrequited love
spent yearning and longing, that I could forget
that time — was I seventeen? — when he asked me
to go with him to the States, could forget that moment
years later when, at long long last he proposed,
could forget that because I was young and fearful
and he was wild, arty and penniless, I kept...

Already a subscriber? Log in

Get 10 issues
for $10

Subscribe to The Spectator Australia today for the next 10 magazine issues, plus full online access, for just $10.

  • Delivery of the weekly magazine
  • Unlimited access to spectator.com.au and app
  • Spectator podcasts and newsletters
  • Full access to spectator.co.uk

Unlock this article


You might disagree with half of it, but you’ll enjoy reading all of it. Try your first month for free, then just $2 a week for the remainder of your first year.


Don't miss out

Join the conversation with other Spectator Australia readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.

Already a subscriber? Log in