The worst part about a relationship ending isn’t the break-up. Or the drunken “I miss you/I hate you” text messages and phone calls. Or hearing a song on the radio and having a nervous breakdown because it says the word “love” in it. The worst part of a relationship ending could happen as soon as two weeks after a break-up, or as late as six months after a break-up. It could happen when you think you’re totally over the guy, or when you have a new squeeze. It could happen in class. It could happen on the Internet. Or it could happen in Wal-Mart, near the $5 movie bin.
It’s when you bump into your ex. It’s when you bump into your ex when they’re with their new jam. Their new lady. Their new guy. Their new whatever.
It’s always a whirlwind. You’re walking somewhere, you could be having a great time- when suddenly you spot your ex, which is always terrifying enough on it’s own. But then you look over their shoulder and you see… her.
I was just recently at Wal-Mart with a good friend of mine, trying to find Mason Jars for sale individually, instead of packs of like, 36. He and I were walking down an aisle, I was dancing and clapping my hands to “Soul Sister” because I’m an a**hole when I looked straight ahead for a moment and…. there he was. My most recent ex. And I had a seriously awful time dealing with this break up. Like, Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction hard time. Well not totally, but you get it.
So it was an awful break up. I said and did a lot of things I’m not proud of, but hey. Love hurts. So, I haven’t seen this guy in forever, and I hadn’t heard from him in months. I was coming to terms with the fact that he was studying in South Korea- or he hated my guts and wanted me to burn to death in a house fire.
But there he was. Not in Seoul but browsing old blockbusters in the $5 movie bin. I immediately stopped what I was doing, and tried to keep myself straight. There was no avoiding this, unless I was going to hide out in the Newborn Baby Aisle until close. I had to say hello, I had to pretend that I wasn’t ever a crazy bi***, and that I wasn’t just dancing/clapping my hands to “Soul Sister.”
So we keep moving forward, and we stopped to say hello. I had to cough to get my stomach out of my throat. We chatted some small talk (which I am the absolute worst at) and my friend debated whether or not to buy Superbad for $5 (the answer is obviously yes considering EVERYONE should own that movie). As this life changing debate took place, a girl walked over to The Ex. And I knew immediately that it was her. The new GF.
I wish I could say I introduced myself, and we all talked for a couple minutes and exchanged pleasant good-byes- but I can’t. It was awkward, and there weren’t any introductions and all I wanted to do was to find those goddarn Mason Jars and for Soul Sister to get off the f***ing radio.
As we walked away from them, I let out an involuntary growl/gurgle/sadness hiccup. My friend asked what was wrong with me and I growled/gurgled/sadness hiccup’d out “nothing! Where those Mason Jars at.”
We had been over for like, five months. I have gone out with other people. I have done other things. But for those 30 seconds, it felt like we had broken up the night before.
It sucked. They didn’t have individual Mason Jars so I had to buy 12. And I bumped into my ex. With his new GF. And I had to go to Wal-Mart. Ugh. (The whitest of white girl problems.)
So what do we do? I mean, we can’t hide in our bedrooms from our ex’s forever. And we can’t like, move to new cities/states/countries every time there’s a bad break up (even though it would be nice to vacation after one). And we certainly can’t Eternal Sunshine someone out of our brains. So what does that leave?
Ladies, I wish I could give you a quick solution. I wish I had this one figured out so I could help all my sisters out, so you would never have to experience the weird flood of emotions I had today near the $5 movie bin at Wal-Mart. But there isn’t one. You just have to go with it, and maybe let out a growl as you walk away.
It sucks when someone who used to love you, loves someone else. It’s painful, and sh***y, and it feels like your heart has been puked on and then stomped on by white New Balance sneakers. But sometimes (as cliché and lame as it sounds,) life is supposed to feel like someone puked on you and then walked all over you in their white New Balance sneakers. That’s life. If it didn’t hurt, you wouldn’t be doing it right. Is that a saying?
Seriously- if life was all hunky dory all the time, and we never ran into our ex’s with their new GF’s, it would be incredibly boring. There would be no excitement, nervousness, or anxiety. And aren’t those the parts of life where the best stories come from?