Cabbagetown by Hugh Garner:
He was in love. Let the pedants scoff and call it “puppy love.” Let everyone deride him and warn him and say, “ I told you so,” years later when it had become a metal taste on the tongue. Let them feel a condescending pity for a sixteen-year-old boy who kissed a pretty girl at a party and fell in love with her. Such loves are not always the lasting loves, but they are the great ones when you are young and silly and new to the game. And the one you love is beautiful and wonderful and without guile or evil. Then years later when you see your first love again and cannot recall why you ever loved her, perhaps it is not because you never did but because you loved her too well.