How to Get Over a Breakup and Not Kill Anybody in the Process

You’ve waited all of your life to be living with the woman of your dreams. You wore the shining armor down to gunmetal gray. And yet, here you are banging your head against the kitchen counter one, two, seven times, all the while telling yourself how stupid you are. Make sure you do it when she’s not home. Nobody likes a downer. Alternately, you can simply imagine slamming your head into the kitchen counter. It has a similar effect.

This first part is important because it will jog loose whatever-the-fuck went wrong in your head – because even though you just moved in together, even though you’ve been talking about getting married, even though you’ve already started thinking about rings, you messed up by thinking that things would go easily for you. Tell yourself that nothing goes easy, and anything that does isn’t worth having. Your Dad always used to say something like that. You’re not sure if it applies in this case, but it feels good to think it anyway. Most things your Dad told you are like that. You wish you would have been better to him. Be glad that there’s still time.

Remember all of the compromises you made for her and the morals you sacrificed. Realize that it was all for nothing. It’ll hurt at first, but you’ll get over it. If the feeling persists for over a month, see a doctor. Nobody wants to see you get hurt. But chances are that it won’t last over a month because this is all part of the plan. You need to cauterize the wound.

Resist the urge for melodrama. Without regard to how cool it is in the movies, tearing up old movie stubs and photographs with dramatic effect is not a smart thing to do. There will come a day when you would regret not having those memories. If you must, put them in a box for later.

Pick up an old journal of yours. Read over all of the parts that say, in particular, “I love her so much.” Laugh – a bit – through the bitterness welling up in your eyes. This too will pass. Turn to a blank page. Grab a chewed up pencil. Note how the pencil, like you, has suffered; torn by the anxiety and whims of another. Your identification with inanimate objects is inevitable, and it will only continue to grow stronger, so you might as well enlist the pencil in your plight – the dejected tools, forging a new path in life. Together, pour out all of your sharpest emotions. You can dwell on self-pity if you’d like, but you’ll eventually produce some rendition concerning the sheer hopelessness of love. Continue writing. Nobody will ever see what you write, so just go at it. Jot down half thoughts, stupid thoughts, terrible thoughts. Write about what you really want, and how you would take it by force if you knew you wouldn’t get caught.

Stop. Read over what you just wrote. Stop again.

Scribble it out until you tear a hole in the page, all the way through the pages below it. When your frenzy subsides, note what remains of the notebook. Pick up the shreds from the floor and take them to the outside recycling bin. Jam them underneath the Raisin Bran boxes so that she won’t see them when she comes home. You’ll start laughing again, and realize that it’s been almost twenty hours since you woke up. You need sleep.

Call a friend instead. Tell him you need help. He’ll ask you what’s going on, but you probably won’t tell him because you don’t want to seem like a pussy. Just tell him you need to hang out. By the urgency in your voice, he should know that something serious is going on, and if he’s anybody worth spending time with he’ll be there in ten minutes.

Watch your favorite movies and bullshit about anything that comes to mind. Now is the time to bring it up. Tell him that you’re terrified about the prospect of being alone forever. He’ll tell you all the things you already knew, but it’s good to hear somebody else say them, as if they become more truthful when compressed into sound waves. They do.

Take the most obvious steps and try to get involved. At the very least, attempt originality. Try Ultimate. And when you come home from your first practice and she’s made you dinner, give her a hug. Tell her you’ll love her forever. She’ll understand. Begin preparations to study abroad. The rest will take care of itself.