From ages five to thirteen, I would have to spend significant time in Iowa — that’s where my dad lives.

After my parents split, my brothers and I would all go to Iowa for the summer. Then my oldest brother stopped going as much and then eventually he stopped going all together. Then my next brother. And by the summer where I was ending 7th grade and going into 8th grade, I was going by myself. That summer, from June 27th to August 2nd, it was just me there. Seven weeks. I had no friends, no city, and worst of all (at the time) no girlfriend. That year, in march of my 7th grade year, I met a girl — her name was Marie.

She was brand new that year, just transferred in. She wasn’t in any of my classes though, so I only really got time with her at recess and lunch. She would always snatch my hat off my head, which I fully understood was her way of flirting because thirteen year olds flirt in weird fuckin’ ways. I mean, not exclusively, I know people of many ages who flirt weird. Especially old men. That’s like all thirteen year old girls and old men have in common — their weird flirting.

It actually really bothered me. The fact that she kept snatching my hat. It bothered me because it took me forever to get my friends to not do that, and now I had to do that whole process of half threats, half begs all over again with this girl who I had a huge crush on. And crushes in 7th grade are like, Chernobyl dangerous. You know why? Because 7th graders are the MOST hormonal human beings on the planet and that is a real fact. So while Marie snatched my hat almost every recess, I not only had to remind myself that I had a crush on her (which shouldn’t be a hard thing to forget, but when you’re an angry 7th grader who hates having their hat snatched, it‘s tough) I also had to get my hat back. Every time I’d reach for it she’d run — like run run. Which made sense because we were children and children run from things, or right at things. I didn’t want to run though. I only wanted to run if it meant I was running for competitive reasons because my brothers beat me at everything, except being the fastest and I wanted to flaunt that one win everywhere. But not with Marie, because 7th grade Jonah desperately wanted a relationship with her. And running wasn’t mature. Not when you’re trying to be in a committed relationship with someone. So when she ran, I would tense up because I didn’t want to chase her. I wanted myself, herself, and other people to take what I was trying to create and develop seriously. Overtime and less and less hat snatching, she did become my girlfriend. Both of us were so filled with excitement. We went on dates to Starbucks where I’d pay for everything with my dog walking money. I didn’t reveal my job to her for the first couple months of our relationship because I wanted to be mysterious. I mean, it’s kind of hard to be a mysterious 7th grade boy. What’s the most mysterious job that I could of had?

We hugged a lot. Like so much. Super, overly long, tight, and awkward hugs. Hugs you give to your southern aunt who isn’t really your aunt, that’s helped shape and raise you since you were eleven, who is now moving to another state for a really good job, but you won’t see nearly as much. Eventually we started to kiss more and more which brought so much happiness and excitement to my thirteen year old self. She also would compliment me on the regular. Middle schoolers aren’t nice to each other so when someone compliments things about you and they aren’t between the ages of thirty-six and seventy-nine, it feels good. Especially if you’re a self conscious, kinda insecure 7th grader. But all of these things, the simple fact of knowing I had a girlfriend, the hugs, kisses, and compliments, all of it built up to the sadness both her and I felt when I had to stay in Iowa for seven weeks.

Then I went. For seven weeks I stayed in a creepy small house in a super small town. Sometimes I’d drive down to Southern Iowa and spend the weekends there, but at a certain point it all feels the same. And sure, I was doing some different activities, but the loneliness never left. Did my tiny 7th grade-selfs heart get ripped out because I wasn’t going to be able to almost make out with my 7th grade girlfriend? Absolutely. But along with that — I didn’t have any friends. I had an aunt and uncle in the town my dad lived in who I hold a really special place in my heart, but I still had no brothers and no friends. And if you’re thinking “Well, Jonah, you could’ve just made some friends in Iowa to keep you company.” Then fuck you man. First off, you ever try to make NEW friends as a thirteen year old? Let alone in IOWA. It’s not easy. This was one of my first real encounters with loneliness. I mean, I’ve been kinda lonely since I was born. Being the youngest comes with hardships sometimes. But this was one of the first times I told myself “I’m lonely.”