A year and a half ago, my world turned upside down. M, my boyfriend of 6 years, ended our relationship over the phone. He said that "it just wasn't worth it" and hung up. Then he turned off his cell phone. And never accepted another call from me. Ever. We have never spoken again.
But that's not what this post is about. It's about what happened afterward.
If my life were a movie, everything would have worked out perfectly. I would have spent a week or two in bed, wearing an old shirt of M's that I had in my closet. (My quirky boss would have been very understanding and told me to "Take all the time I needed".) Then Harry Connick jr. would have shown up.
Maybe I'd accidentally spill a drink on him after my friends dragged me out, still wearing the 2 week old shirt. (My hair would be adorably disheveled but still shiny even after 2 weeks without washing.) Or maybe he'd stroll right into the bedroom to install something or read a meter of some kind. (I'd look simultaneously innocent and seductive, despite a weeks worth of cookie crumbs and Snickers wrappers sharing the bed with me.) Our eyes would meet, we'd share some witty banter, we'd go out, then have a fight, then reunite and spend the rest of our lives in bliss. And perfect fitting jeans.
In reality, Harry Connick jr did not show up. I've never met him. I did see him once in New Orleans, when he was throwing stuffed animals off a float in the Proteus parade. Our eyes did not meet. We did not exchange witty banter. He DID peg me off the head with a minuscule teddy bear that bounced into the hands of a little girl wearing a dress and fairy wings. But then the float passed on by. I was left alone in my ill-fitting jeans and fairy wings. (Hey! It was Marti Gras! We can't let the kids have all the fairy wing fun!)
Fortunately, I have the best friends in the world. I have a very supportive family. I'm lucky that way. My friends and family rallied around me to help me through it all. They gave me space when I needed it, they gave me encouragement, and they gave me advice. Lots and lots of really bad advice.
No matter how well meaning they all were, their advice was absolutely worthless. Every last bit. I got some real gems: "Everything happens for a reason." (It doesn't. Sometimes things happen for no reason at all.) "There are other fish in the sea." (Great. I'll call you when I'm craving seafood.) And the worst advice of all: "You need to get right back in the game and start dating again."
Dating was probably the last thing in the world I should have been doing immediately following the end of a 6 year relationship. (after swimming with sharks and amateur knife throwing.) But what did I know? I clearly had no idea what was good for me! I decided to let other people make my decisions for me and latched onto the idea of "getting back into the game".
And it went all downhill from there.
Come visit me each Tuesday for Jeepgirl's newest feature: Tuesday's Bad Dates. Because a year and a half is long enough to see the humor in my own bad fortune.
But that's not what this post is about. It's about what happened afterward.
If my life were a movie, everything would have worked out perfectly. I would have spent a week or two in bed, wearing an old shirt of M's that I had in my closet. (My quirky boss would have been very understanding and told me to "Take all the time I needed".) Then Harry Connick jr. would have shown up.
Maybe I'd accidentally spill a drink on him after my friends dragged me out, still wearing the 2 week old shirt. (My hair would be adorably disheveled but still shiny even after 2 weeks without washing.) Or maybe he'd stroll right into the bedroom to install something or read a meter of some kind. (I'd look simultaneously innocent and seductive, despite a weeks worth of cookie crumbs and Snickers wrappers sharing the bed with me.) Our eyes would meet, we'd share some witty banter, we'd go out, then have a fight, then reunite and spend the rest of our lives in bliss. And perfect fitting jeans.
In reality, Harry Connick jr did not show up. I've never met him. I did see him once in New Orleans, when he was throwing stuffed animals off a float in the Proteus parade. Our eyes did not meet. We did not exchange witty banter. He DID peg me off the head with a minuscule teddy bear that bounced into the hands of a little girl wearing a dress and fairy wings. But then the float passed on by. I was left alone in my ill-fitting jeans and fairy wings. (Hey! It was Marti Gras! We can't let the kids have all the fairy wing fun!)
Fortunately, I have the best friends in the world. I have a very supportive family. I'm lucky that way. My friends and family rallied around me to help me through it all. They gave me space when I needed it, they gave me encouragement, and they gave me advice. Lots and lots of really bad advice.
No matter how well meaning they all were, their advice was absolutely worthless. Every last bit. I got some real gems: "Everything happens for a reason." (It doesn't. Sometimes things happen for no reason at all.) "There are other fish in the sea." (Great. I'll call you when I'm craving seafood.) And the worst advice of all: "You need to get right back in the game and start dating again."
Dating was probably the last thing in the world I should have been doing immediately following the end of a 6 year relationship. (after swimming with sharks and amateur knife throwing.) But what did I know? I clearly had no idea what was good for me! I decided to let other people make my decisions for me and latched onto the idea of "getting back into the game".
And it went all downhill from there.
Come visit me each Tuesday for Jeepgirl's newest feature: Tuesday's Bad Dates. Because a year and a half is long enough to see the humor in my own bad fortune.
6 comments:
You know what you said the other day about how sometimes you think we share a mind? Yeah... I think that, too.
If only life were more like chick flicks, right?? *sigh*
I'm glad that you've found the humor in a string of loser guys and are willing to share. :) That should make for some interesting reading!! :)
Great post.
I'm with you about not everything happening for a reason. I did a whole post on it once. It's one of those band-aid things to say when people can't come up with anything else. I think some things happen for a reason, but all things? Come on.
ooh, I can't wait! One of my favorite books was the fun read: Dates from Hell by Katherine Ann Samon.
I loved this post. Because who hasn't been there, in that awful place. And you're in such a good place now, so it's inspirational.
One of my worst breakups was also sudden and cold-turkey. It was horrid. I hope I never have to experience that again. General advice DOES suck, the only thing one can do is basically sob oneself to happiness. (fun fun)
"Dates from Hell"...I'll have to get it.
I can't wait!!!
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