Hearts break easily, don’t they? Especially when you’re a teenager. While writing my first novel, I made several references to being a teenager, and the exquisite pain-pleasure of being a teenager in love. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t writing from experience!

Teen love is an intoxicating thing. I fell in love twice in my teens (well, three times, actually, but since I married number three and we’re still together, he doesn’t count in the heart breaks category!).  I think I broke #1’s heart, although I’d never intended to, but then we were super young (I was fifteen and a bit when we broke up, and we had a pretty long distance, mostly written relationship) and, to be honest, I’d be surprised if he hadn’t kissed a few girls on the side. I fell hard, as did he, and the romance of only seeing each other a few times in a year was intoxicating. In relationship terms, though, it was all very innocent, although we often talked of getting married.

The second time I fell in love, he broke my heart. It was horrible. The physical pain was almost as bad as the emotional. I stopped eating, couldn’t stop crying, felt cold the whole time; in short, I was, for a little while, Bella Swann. It sucked, if you’ll pardon the pun. I was seventeen and about to go into the final year of my A Levels. I was so intensely in love with him that I never noticed anyone else. Actually, with twenty-odd years of perspective, I can see why he dumped me, and I completely understand; I was a very serious minded teenager. With maturity came, thankfully, a sense of perspective and a sense of humour. I loved him, he loved me, but, Christ, we made each other miserable! In the end, I’m sure his mum told him to end it because she knew we were no good for each other. Thank goodness she did! It meandered along for a while before we truly parted ways, but it was definitely the right decision, despite the pain at the time, and definitely a learning experience. As far as I know, we both ended up OK…

And then, after a dalliance or two with a couple of other lovely chaps, I met my husband, and, despite the ups and downs of a long relationship, I’ve never felt more loved; probably because I was a little older, and a little wiser. To me, that’s the true happily ever after, isn’t it? And the previous heartbreak only confirmed it. Real, grown up love can be just as painful as teenage heartbreak, but it definitely has more rewards, and whenever I see the fallout of teenage relationships at school, there’s a part of me that just wants to tell them that it will be OK. You will mend; you will get over it and you will move on. Unless you really are Bella Swann, of course. And who the hell would want to be her?

I was listening to the above song yesterday, which definitely inspired this post!