January

The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 What to Do After a Break-Up: A Day-by-Day Guide

DAY ONE: Hit him. Cry. Punch the wall. Cry some more. Throw out everything that even remotely reminds you of him. Wish you could move apartments. Delete him from Facebook. Cry again. Finally curl up on the couch with a blanket and watch 8 episodes of 30 Rock back-to-back, feeling sick. Sleep poorly. Wake up often.

DAY TWO: Cry again. Get mad. Write an angry letter and shred it. Cry again. Tell all your friends he’s an asshole. Add, “that fucker” every time you say his name. Run 3 miles. Delete all of his pictures and block his email. Look up “How to get over someone” online and read obsessively.

DAY THREE: Step back. Analyze. Try to understand his point of view. Fail. Sing along loudly with Ani DiFranco’s “Untouchable Face” on repeat at the highest volume possible.

DAY FOUR: Dye your hair. Rearrange your living room. Go for a walk. Write poetry. Get a text from him: Can we talk? Not yet.

DAY FIVE: Talk for an hour. Listen to his explanation. Realize you misunderstood some things. Realize you both fucked up. Realize that’s still no excuse. Express regret that it didn’t work out. Mention the possibility of being friends again sometime in the future. Say goodbye. Hang up. Stare blankly at your phone.

DAY SEVEN: Avoid all romantic music.  Hit “skip” constantly on iTunes and Pandora. Have a constant “him-him-him” feed in the back of your mind. Hash and rehash what happened. Watch a movie and think, “That actor looks like him . . . ”

DAY EIGHT: Week One. You’re biting your nails again.

DAY ELEVEN: Go out with girlfriends. Drink. Almost text him. Don’t. Congratulate yourself on your self-control.  

DAY TWELVE: Relapse. Talk about him with mutual friends. Miss him suddenly, physically, painfully. Keep it together until the door closes after them. Fall sobbing on the floor. Listen to the Helio Sequence sing “Lately” three times. Put “buy tissue” on your shopping list.  

DAY FOURTEEN: Catch up with an old friend. Relive the situation. See where you went wrong. See where he went wrong. Get indignantly angry again at the whole thing.   

DAY FIFTEEN: Week Two. Think mean thoughts. “My life without him is better than my life with him.” “I might never want to be friends again.” Flip off any car you see with the license plate of the state he’s from.

DAY SIXTEEN: Listen to “Me Voy” by Julieta Venegas over and over again. Skip “Limón y Sal.” Fantasize about sending him a mix CD in the mail. Ruin, The Pierces. The Rat, The Walkmen. Immediately reject that idea. Promise yourself this is the last time you get so one-sidedly crazy about someone. Promise. Promise. Promise.

DAY SEVENTEEN: Start getting tired of being angry and hurt. Starting looking objectively at the situation. Realize that not being together is best in the long run. Know that a better future awaits.

DAY EIGHTEEN: He accidentally calls. You don’t flip out. Not too much.  

DAY NINETEEN: You’re both on a Facebook group message. See his name. Stay calm.

DAY TWENTY-TWO: Week Three. Drive past his apartment complex on the way to another friend’s house. Don't pay attention to where the turn-off is. Don’t even realize.

DAY TWENTY-THREE: Suppose it’s not going to take 31 days after all. Click, “Post.”