Five Easy Steps to Falling Out of Love
Approaching the goddess throne, I asked her to enlighten me. And, in a moment of gracious wisdom (was it indigestion?) she elected to share the secrets of the universe. I emerged from that confab with the conclusion that, even though Paul Simon says there are 50 ways to leave your lover, there are only five ways to fall out of love.
How can our friends and our psychotherapist alike blame us for nursing a crush when there are reminders everywhere? Ticket stubs from first dates, movie reruns on cable, his sweater, ew- his boxers, his friends. The places you went, the places you meant to go together. The places you refused to go.
Way number one to fall out of love: Control your thoughts.
Don’t let him bring you down. Don’t think about him. We women have a tougher time than men, handling a breakup. Not only does the guy go, so goes the pleasant fantasies, idyllic imaginings, the possible futures. Yes, for women, 75 percent of a breakup is divorcing your thoughts and expectations- things that, in all likelihood, bore a loose relationship to reality anyway!
Way number two to fall out of love. There’s a strange phenomenon that occurs in life, when one part of an impassioned organism is lopped off. (John Bobbit knows what I’m talking about). It’s the same when a serious relationship heads the way of the dodo, the leg warmer, or Janet Jackson’s career. Sadness sets in your soul, and you miss your former flame in a way you never thought possible.
You miss them in the morning, you miss them in the evening, you miss them… all over the place. Because of this, friends find reasons to avoid you- the thought of another possible sighting, the sound of one more lovelorn sigh. You’re on your own for girls night out.
That’s way number two to fall out of love… make friends, add some new goddesses to the pantheon. It’s what you do when the going gets tough and nobody calls you back.
Onto number three… Perhaps in fairness to the hairier sex, I should spread the blame. Madison Avenue bears a lot of responsibility for the demise of your relationship. It’s those ad meisters who set impossibly high standards. Perfect hair, perfect life, perfect career by 26. Married by 28 (at the latest) two perfect kids by 30 (even then, you’re coming in just under the wire). We women think this is the only schedule that matters- no alterations allowed.
We’re fooled into having impossibly high expectations of our relationships thanks to movies, TV, and music. Don’t miss this now. Madison Avenue peddles escapism and fantasy. What’s the result? People who don’t want kids, people incapable of having kids, people running families and stepfamilies all because outside sources tell us we’re not whole without it.
In reality, we have all the time in the world to live our lives, provided our priorities are in order. The passage of days is less our enemy than feeblemindedness, distraction, or weak character. That’s way number three to fall out of love, and down the slippery slope to reality. You excise the silliness and make Madison Avenue want for someone else’s dough. No movies starring Meg Ryan. No TV shows featuring long-suffering would be couples. No pop, country western, jazz, or blues- the first two because of schmaltzy love themes and the last two, high suicide probabilities. Get thee to a music store and learn some new tunes! The perfect cure for the lovelorn is Bob Dylan, the E Street Band, and show tunes. Yes, show tunes. (Tell me the Chicago soundtrack doesn’t lift your spirits!) Way number three: Excise the silly, cut the negativity. Onto number four…
Get religion.
When I say that, I mean get spirituality. Find your center, your deity, your peace, your core, your pit, whatever you want to call it. If that means a church, blessed be. If it means meditations, ommmmmm, I’m with thee. If it means quiet, well, just get to the end of this article and turn out the lights.
Religious texts- and any other innovative reading material- should be top priority for you. Buddhist texts. The Bible. The Koran. These ancient books are filled with poetic musings of souls not so dissimilar from your own. Because of the infinite interpretations that arise from religious traditions, because of how spirituality speaks to our inmost need, it’s way number four. Get thee to a church. Amen.
But not quite.
The goddess had one more pearl of wisdom to share. She told me my great love was already in my life, that I was already neglecting my duties to this love. Oh, I fed, I pampered, yet I neglected. It was time for me to realize the only immutable thing in my life- the one indestructible, immortal component of my life- is Me.
Way number five to fall out of love: don’t let sorrow blind you to the truth that there is great love for all of us. You are your whirlwind romance. Be confident, be real, be in love.
Know that a partner worth your time may not come in the package you expect, ladies. Your knight in shining armor might not be late- he might not come at all. There are husbands, there are kids, there are talents and gifts allotted us by God. It may be a person, a parent, it may be your career.
Love- great, unfathomable, boundless love- is there for the taking. Learn to see what’s real. That’s way number five. Fall in love with you and the world will abound with possibilities you never imagined.
*marjo moore wants to be dear abby
