Heartbreak is inevitable. My first was around the 8th grade or so. He was never even my boyfriend. Yet I cried about him like he had been the love of my young life. I don’t want to forget this painful experience because it’s memories like these that keep me open minded to my own daughter’s journey through life. His name was *Chad, which may or may not have been short for *Chadwick. He was a quiet boy, a good boy, a Christian boy. He was cute, not incredibly tall but taller than me. Tick, tick, tick, he checked off ...