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PST.) When our interview was over, Peter and I got in a car and went to lunch alone.
This was something I'd literally prayed to happen for two years after our breakup.
When the director of my documentary on marriage asked me which of my ex-boyfriends I would like to interview on camera, I told him, "We're going to have to hire an actor." I'm not friends with any of my exes, and I've never understood the appeal.
In fact, the only ex I ever considered myself to be on speaking terms with is the one person with whom I'd gone the longest without speaking: Peter. He was a tall, handsome British guy who would come into the Los Angeles restaurant where I waited tables and flirt with me.
He thought I was too young and needy, while I thought he lacked passion and didn't understand why he didn't want me to sleep over every night.
Peter, though, was my first adult love—and the heartbreak for me that paved the way for all future heartbreaks.