Memories of past love are tough to contemplate at young ages, but it happens to most of us because we are all made of guts and mush that liquefy like meat left out in the sun if they go unused. In your 20's you drink too much or ingest too much of something or overthink yourself into catatonia. But it sometimes starts even earlier: your loss, your heart's wonder, regret. When I was 11, the first baby I ever held hands with was a peppy blonde girl with knee socks and pink Keds who lived up the street. Her name was Christie. She moved too fast for me at the time, but once I turned 12, I was ready. I hit puberty, so did she, but she'd already moved on. So I was too late for the first time and in order to sublimate my small pain, I wrote her a love song.

It's called "Christie":

(A minor- G-F-G if you'd like to play this tune at home)

Christie was a girl I knew in school, we went out in Junior High
I loved her but she'll never know, because I always said goodbye
We were destiny but you could never tell,
cuz I always let her go and gave her hell


Now that she's gone foreve-r,
And going out with Chris
I never told her but I said to myself


She never came back. No wonder. XO, AJ.

Sometimes there are losses in life that come along unexpectedly, especially when it comes to misguided romances; in this week's Girls episode, "It's Back," we have three of our main character's relationships excavated. The two relationships currently on the disabled list (Hannah/Adam; Marnie/Charlie) have the best chance of survival, oddly enough. Yes, Shoshannah and Ray, although technically together, are super-close to implosion. But their doom awaits. For now, let's sift through the ashes of the others.

The theme of missed opportunity and regret is strong throughout, most prominently on display when Hannah, whose maddening OCD has returned with a vengeance due to her breakup with Adam, the pressure of publishing her e-book and her inabilty to embrace YOLO. She's confronted with it during a Judy Collins concert at a dinner theater with her visiting parents. She's lost in the lyrics from the wise lady strumming the guitar on the tiny stage:

Sometimes I remember the old days
When the world was filled with sorrow
You might have thought I was living
but I was all alone
In my heart the rain was falling
The wind blew, the night was calling
Come back, come back I'm all you've ever known.

Hannah averts her eyes from the stage, drowning in memories of Adam being weird, pounding wood, pounding her, so she runs to the bathroom because her OCD is suffocating her body like a plastic bag over her head. She sprints to the bathroom to make herself feel right again.

Meanwhile Marnie finds out that Charlie — spineless, rudderless, Charlie— has secured funding for an app he created called Forbid, and is now a budding mogul with an office in Chelsea and 11 employees. This is not how it's supposed to happen for Marnie, as we later find out she thinks. "I had him pegged for six years of being broken." SHE, on the other hand, had her shit together, yet is still promenading around in a goony outfit as a hostess in the city, rolling her eyes enough for someone to notice. Ray, resident sage of lost dreams and inertia, intervenes: " What do you really wanna do with your life?"

She wants to sing. Ray goes eyes-wide-mouth-closed because she can't be serious. She's serious. She croons some Norah Jones for him because she's stupid. It's an adequate rendition, all electronic cigarette dreamy, but she's still stupid.

Back to sensibility. Adam woke up in the morning and drank a glass of rotten milk next to his dirty bed because he's still so twisted by the loss of Hannah. He's consumed by her and her many contradictions. Something has to move forward in a positive way so he heads back to an AA meeting and avoids the sinkhole. The meeting is about to close but before it does he stands up to change the things he can before they rearrange the chairs:

"I had this girlfriend who at first I didn't like very much or I guess I didn't take her serious very much. She just seemed like, uhhmm, a piece of ass. But she was perrr-sistent man and she just hung around and hung around and showed up at my place and gradually it started to feel better when she was there. It wasn't love the way I imagined it. I just felt weird...I didn't know what she was up to or whatever. I liked knowing that she was just going to be there and warm and staying the night. And she acted like I was teaching her everything! About...fuckin history. About sex. She didn't know what street Central Park started on. Or how to use soap. And showed her! And I wanted that chance to show someone everything. But she changed her mind and it was (snaps) that fast."

Chews lip chews lip chews lip.

"I was so exhausted."

Thanks for sharing, Adam. At the meeting, an older, pushy, possibly-wacko woman (Carol Kane) is touched by this soliloquy and wants to introduce him to her daughter. This is a set-up for disaster but Adam goes along with meeting her anyway. Turns out the goofy mom created an angel just for Adam and their eyes predict enchantment even before they sit down at the table.

The dinner conversation is effortless and Adam smiles like a human throughout while the girl's wings grow and expand after every sentence uttered. He's on his way.

But Hannah, poor Hannah, continues to disintegrate so her parents make a pit-stop at a shrink to keep her OCD in check.

Hannah placates the therapist with her history of OCD. It's been going on since high school but she freed herself from it after some medication. She stopped the medication.

"Why?" the therapist asks.

"It made me tired," Hannah says.

"How tired?"

"Very tired."

So now what?