Double Dutch: Breaking Up

It was not age-appropriate. Most of my classmates (myself included) had never even been on a date, much less had any idea if breaking up was hard to do or not.

I've learned a lot since then, and on this, our last date, I thought I'd share some thoughts with you.

Do not dump in public -- it can get really sloppy. (I have seen signs about this, I think.)

Try to get all your stuff back as quickly as possible -- running into the new nookie candidate when attempting to retrieve your toothbrush is bad.

"Let's just be friends" means one of three things, none of which are friendly: fake friends, hookup friends or not-at-all friends.

"Taking time off" means breaking up. Don't kid yourself. We're talking about exile here, not a vacation.

"It's not you; it's me" means I am really tired of you.

"You can't just fall all to pieces," my mother says, every time I go berserk after getting the boot.

Ending a relationship is hard, and you lose a little bit of yourself every time it happens. Most of the time you find it again, but that's part of picking up the pieces.

Some of the best pieces are the bits of remembered goodness that linger as time soothes the sting of a big schism. It may sound paradoxical, but a poem by Helene Johnson called "Remember Not" explains this best:

Remember not the promises we made

In this same garden many moons ago.

You must forget them. I would have it so.

Old vows are like old flowers as they fade

And vaguely vanish in a feeble death.

There is no reason why your hands should clutch

At pretty yesterdays. There is not much

Of beauty in me now. And though my breath

Is quick, my body sentient, my heart

Attuned to romance as before, you must

Not, through mistaken chivalry, pretend

To love me still. There is no mortal art

Can overcome Time's deep, corroding rust.

Let Love's beginning expiate Love's end.