An Old Flame

WordPress asks me to describe the first person who broke my heart.

The first girl who broke my heart was a truly magical person. She was kind, witty, sweet and pretty. Indeed, she was practically perfect in every way.

Yes, Mary Poppins broke my heart. I was seven when I first saw the film and burst into tears near the end when I realised she was going away, devastated that she would not be there for the Banks children ever again.

Ok, so they were now a proper family whose father was more devoted to them. Big deal. To me, from a family who took stuff like that for granted, this was no substitute for watching a hat-stand being pulled from a travel-bag, or being able to tidy one’s room by clicking one’s fingers, or being able to hang around chimneys within earshot of the most legendary Cockney accent of all time.

I remember vividly that my mum brought my brother and I for tea and cakes afterwards, trying to cheer me up, but I sobbed uncontrollably and snotfully all over the sticky buns, improving their stickiness but disimproving their appeal.

I met my darling Mary again later in my life. About three months later. I went to see the film again with my cousins when I staying with them on holiday.

I sobbed again.

There are some women you just never get over.

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