To All the Boys that Broke my Heart Before, Belén Domínguez [books to read to get smarter .TXT] 📗

I don’t think anyone feels like writing about the times where they had their hearts broken, but to me, this is actually therapeutic. So, I will in fact write about it, to get out of my system all the times that I felt horrible about these boys. I will say that surprisingly, I have nothing against them, which is weird. Why don’t I hate them?—I totally should, right? You will be the judge of it when you read about it.

For the sake of everything, I will make up a name to cover their real ones, even though they will most likely never read this and you probably have no idea who am I talking about, I just want to avoid any future drama, because you never know.

Also, yes, the title is based on the book by Jenny Han. I was just thinking randomly one day about these boys, then my mind went to Jenny Hans’ book, and believed it would be interesting to write a novel with a collection of letters that have nothing romantic about them. I am not declaring my love for them, in fact, I am falling out of love with them.

For the first time, I will open up my heart by sharing everything about each one of them, because I feel comfortable enough to finally do so. I don’t do this to get millions of reads—which by the way, is always appreciated—I do this to finally get closure with myself since they didn’t give it to me.

So, I hope you still feel like reading this, and if you do, thank you.

Let’s begin. . .

I want to put it all in chronological order, even though each one had a different impact on me. But, sometimes it is indeed better to put it all in order, it’s way more organized. Before writing the letters dedicated to these boys, I want to clarify what was the deal with each one, and why do I feel this way.

I’ll start with the first boy I liked, the truly first one. Let’s call him Nick. Every time I saw him my stomach would do major backflips. I constantly felt butterflies and nervousness whenever he would smile at me. He was the first boy I had a crush on. I feel like most people don’t acknowledge their first love in kindergarten, almost as if they all try to block that part of childhood—the first time we felt a crush building upon us, I mean. But, I do remember it, very clearly, to be completely honest.

I remember my parents dropping me off on my first day of school, ever. I met a lot of fun people, each one with a different personality and just very kind. I soon made a lot of friends and had enjoyable moments. It was a period of time where we didn’t have a care in the world, where the only responsibility was knowing how to draw inside of the lines—what glorious times, am I right? It was that era where we would have naps right after lunch recess.

Sorry, I’ll be much more straightforward with this.

I believe I met this boy on my first day of school, and well, became my best friend. The worst thing is falling in love with your best friend, can you relate? Fearing to ruin something so great as that friendship with just three words: I like you.

He was also my first kindergarten kiss. When you’re a child, you’re innocent, so sometimes you’re just curious about stuff. One day in the library, his friends proposed to him to get a peck from me—like a bet. So, he kind of tricked me into lying on the floor and closing my eyes. I felt his lips on mine for literally a second. Me being me—more like, kids being kids—I said that it was gross and faked puke, him obviously laughing. We were just playing around. We were at that age where those things were like “ewwwwww gross”. At that time, I didn’t feel horrible that they bet him to kiss me. I just thought that it was a game, so I kind of played along. Besides, he was my best friend, and honestly, the nicest guy you will ever meet.

I think I spent years suffering in silence. Well, I’m exaggerating. Is not like I was dying for him to find out, since a huge part of me always thought that his feelings were not reciprocal. The butterflies were always present. Whenever I saw him in the hallways, whenever we played together in recess, or even whenever we would go over to each other’s houses. At times, my innocent-self had that small hope that maybe he did feel something for me, as I said—Innocent. But then, one day I blurted out those three words I mentioned before:

I like you.

Can you believe it? Fuck.

But, I did say it. In the most random scenario ever. We were probably like eight years old and were making the line at the cafeteria to get our food. He was behind me talking about something with a friend. He mentioned the word “like”, and in my mind, something was triggered because I quickly turned around and just said: well, I like you.

I was so embarrassed, WHY THE FUCK DID I SAY THAT!? Till now, I don’t understand the reason behind that.

Of course, since he was taken aback by my sudden actions, he felt kind of embarrassed and shy too. Besides, he was with another friend, it’s hard to know what to do when things like that catch you off guard. So he said: Well, I don’t.

Okay, that would’ve hurt me if the scenario was much more different and if we were completely alone.

I kind of tried to hide my embarrassment by just laughing and saying: No, I mean, I don’t like you like that, I like you as my friend.

He smiled and was nice about it. Since we were kids we forgot that it even happened. Trust me, he even forgot that he pecked me on the lips when we were much younger. I know that because once, remembering our kindergarten days, I reminded him of that moment. He denied it, said it wasn’t true at all. Though I do have witnesses.

Oh, believe me, I do.

Unfortunately, that day, my mother and one of my older brothers were walking by the library just when I was there. They saw the exact moment where Nick planted a kiss on my lips.

THEY. SAW. THAT.

THEY.

SAW.

THAT.

PECK.

To add to the embarrassment, they witnessed the moment that the first boy I ever liked, kissed me. This boy, well, I added him in this book because he was the first crush I ever had in my life.

I promise he is the sweetest guy and we even talk from time to time. I always remember him with love, but this time, in a friendly way. I eventually moved and didn’t see him for quite some time. Then I saw him again back in 2016 because he was visiting the same country I was living in at the moment along with another mutual friend of ours. We all met up and had a wonderful time.

Trust me, everybody knew how I felt about him, mostly because I sucked at hiding it, I made it obvious. The only one too blind to notice was him, though I never cared if he didn’t know. We had a good friendship and that’s all that matters. Out of all the boys on my list, he’s the one that I most appreciate and still have space in my heart just for him. I wish Nick nothing but the best because I do feel he deserves it. I always remember him with a lot of affection and I do cherish every moment we had, as friends of course. I know it could sound like it’s painful, but quite honestly, the main reason why he is here is that he was the first boy I ever liked and made me feel that tingling in the pit of my stomach. Yes, I fancied him, but even though he didn’t feel the same, I’m still fine about it. He didn’t break my heart and wasn’t the first boy I cried for, but I added him here because I wanted to mention the one that made me feel something, for real.

When I was younger, I was always afraid to speak to boys I had crushes on. Like, if I saw a boy I legit felt something for, I would start to uncontrollably laugh and not take my eyes off the floor—I could not make eye contact with them. Thankfully, that’s not my problem nowadays, but I do remember I hated being too shy around them, it was a living hell. That’s why with Nick, I was okay. Since we were close friends, I was comfortable around him. We could make jokes, laugh, play games together, talk about a little bit of everything—those are the moments I will forever cherish.

Boy #2 was probably the one that affected me most, but as I said previously, this is all in chronological order. He was the first guy I truly felt something for; not in a childish way, more like I already comprehended what I was feeling. Someone I liked mostly because of his personality. He had everything that I ever wanted.

Sweet.

Funny.

Smart.

Nice body. . . Sorry.

Let’s call him. . . Francis.

So, I heard about him when I was just 18 years old. Before meeting this boy, we met his uncle—let’s call him Arthur—in Miami when my family and