Relationship Break-Ups
It is at a time like this that your friends can be invaluable. Whether or not you want to be left alone with your grief, you would feel much worse if you had no true friends to reach out to. “True friends” is the key word here. At this point in your life you are probably feeling more than a bit vulnerable. Believe it or not, there may be some people out there who would jump to take advantage.
First of all, the four or five men that show up at your door the minute the word gets out that you are now alone and probably in need of comfort, need to be screened in the following manner:
1. Have you known this man and been friends with him for a reasonable amount of time? The man who just met you two days ago at Casey’s Bar and Grill and who pestered you for your phone number until you threatened to call 911 is probably not at your door (after he wrangled your address out of someone else) to offer solace and words of wisdom. Oh, he’ll offer that, but that’s not what he’s there for. Don’t open the door unless you know Tai Kwon Do and need a good practice match.
2. Has the man shown up reeking of a studly men’s cologne, carrying a bottle of tequila? Open the door if you want the tequila, but grab the tequila, push the man back, and slam the door shut. Remember: Open, grab, push, and slam.
3. Is the man a friend you grew up with, sports 250 lbs of pure muscle and is angry as hell at the low-life who dumped you? Let him in and give him every sordid detail, including your ex’s address.
As for your girlfriends, a little caution may also be needed here. Remember Betty, the friend of a friend of a friend that you met once at a Tupperware party? When she shows up at your door claiming to be devastated at the news of your break-up and is there to give you moral support and a shoulder to cry on, you might want to step back a little. If she asks you for your ex’s phone number, address, and favorite haunts so that she can confront him and give him a “piece of her mind”, it may not be totally sincere. The clue would be that she is asking you these things while she’s standing in front of your full length mirror in her micro mini-skirt and fishnet stockings, adjusting her nine-inch heeled prostitute pumps and doing the toss-back-forward-and-fluff with her hair. Smile, give false information, and apologize for the fact that you are just running out the door to keep an appointment at the VD clinic.
Then Susie shows up at your door. She’s an old friend; she has a key to your apartment. After a reasonable amount of time knocking on your door and getting no response, she lets herself in. She knows, after all, that you are in there; she can hear “Everybody Hurts” by REM playing over and over on your CD player.
Susie walks in and turns off the CD player. After several attempts, she pries the remote control from your hands and turns off your third viewing of “The Way We Were” DVD. Noticing that the twelve tissue boxes on the end table next to the couch are empty, she grabs another box from under your bathroom sink, (you bought in bulk from the Shoppers Warehouse and had it delivered along with your nine gallons of ice cream). She extracts a couple of tissues, dabs at your eyes and cheeks, and sets the new box next to you.
Susie ventures to your bedroom, picks out a cute outfit, and brings it to you. As you stare vacantly into space, she helps you out of your pajamas and into your outfit. She leads you to the bathroom where she gently washes your face, applies your make-up, and brushes your hair. After checking to make sure the lights are out, the windows are locked, and the gas oven is turned off, she leads/pushes you to your front door.
Susie is taking you out.
The next morning when you wake up and make sure that you are, in fact, in your own apartment and your own bed, Susie is right there, cup of coffee and aspirin bottle in hand, and a smile on her face. She tells you how much fun she had with you last night, and how if she wasn’t your best friend she’d be jealous about how all the men last night were paying attention to you and barely giving her a second glance. She laughs heartily as she remembers how much fun you were when you did the Dance of the Seven Veils on the tabletop at the Main Street Nightclub, even though you had no veils. She tells you how proud she is that you won second place in the Karaoke contest with your heartfelt and rousing rendition of “You’re No Good”.
After your headache subsides, she retrieves one of the gallons of ice cream from the freezer, along with two spoons, and plops next to you on your bed. Removing the lid from the ice cream and handing you one of the spoons, she says quietly, “Okay honey, talk. Tell me about it. I’m here.”
Keep Susie. Susie is gold. Susie will help you through this.
No doubt, breaking up is hard to do. With good friends, however, you know you’re going to live through it.
