The Breakup

We were sitting on my couch when he said that we shouldn’t see each other anymore. The reason for the breakup was sort of expected; we were “in different places.” He was 32 and I was 23. He was looking forward to a future filled with marriage and a mortgage—probably none of these things in reality, but that’s not the point. He was looking at the future without me, and I was looking at the ground, in shock.

I felt stupid. All this time, I waited, hoping that sooner, rather than later, he would confess his true feelings for me, feelings that would carry us from A to B, wherever B was located. But that wasn’t the case. Without fully recognizing my position in the short, three-month relationship, I was lost for words. So after trying to convince him to stay over (a very bad idea, as you’ll know if you’ve ever suggested it during a breakup conversation), I asked aimless questions and he did his best to answer them. That’s when I realized that I was never going to hear what I wanted to hear in that given moment. He wasn’t going to change his mind, and there was absolutely nothing I could do or say that would stop him from ending things the way he planned three days ago when he first decided that we weren’t compatible anymore.

I didn’t plead with him, because that’s not my nature. I knew inside that after I asked all the inevitable questions, I would never contact him again. Yes, that’s right ladies, nothing. Not one word. That’s when I realized how to take the high road, the road you find after taking a U-Turn in the middle of a one-way relationship highway, only to end up on a different road you never thought you would end up on. You understand that you can’t look back.

Cry Yourself Clean

Resisting the urge to look back, you’re supposed to just move on and get over it, right? Wrong. It’s not that easy. Although the highway you once drove on is now in the rear view mirror, you’ve got to take the necessary steps forward. Go ahead, cry some more, and then after crying for a few days, you’ll get tired of crying and you’ll start to feel a little numb. The numbing isn’t relaxing, but it’s there, and it’s calm, and it’s the opposite of dry heaving so you take it and run with it. You’ve reached the next step of a breakup and you still haven’t heard from him. No surprise really, but thankfully, if you haven’t succumbed to the itching need to contact him every time you used to, then you’re still en route to emotional recovery.

Staying Strong

You thought you were headed to the relationship equivalent of Palm Springs, but somewhere along the way, his battery lost power and without the help of Google Maps, you were both stranded in a car that neither of you wanted to be in. The days following the “cry me a river” phase of the breakup are tough. But once you get through it, the high road is easier to drive on, because at this point it’s less bumpy and you’re driving in automatic post-dump zombie pilot. But remember, contacting him will restart this emotional road trip—and if you’ve ever been broken up with, living through the second round of a breakup conversation is even more damaging than the first. So hold your head up and stay strong. The hardest part is technically over. On the bright side, your cheeks are glowing from the salt in your dried up tears. There may even be a sunset in the horizon, who knows.

No Communication

The tears have stopped and you’re friends and family are tired of you replaying the post-breakup story.  Chances are, they’re probably tired of it too, so do yourself a favor and take a break from talking about it. Challenge yourself to talk about other things, even the weather if that’s what it takes.

Now comes the hardest part, the day you decide that you don’t trust yourself not to text him or call him, or face time him, whatever you’re old phone routine was. You’ve got to delete his phone number, and because you’re not ready to fully destroy the digits, you scribble them down in a notebook, just in case the song you texted him last month becomes Pitchfork’s Best New Track of 2014. Keep dreaming, sweetheart.

If you delete his number, you’re not tempted. Especially when you’re drunk, or blackout, or taking some pill your friend happens to give you on the dance floor. Even if you wanted to text him, at this point, you won’t because the number isn’t there and by the time you get home, you recognize it’s not worth pulling out your notebook to re-type the number that started the heartache in the first place. I mean seriously, look how far you’ve come, don’t throw that away.

Two Weeks Later

Bring on the anger and face the pain. No more thinking about it, no more negative thought-loops. Stop daydreaming that he’ll text you, because he won’t. It’s not necessary, and even if he does contact you, he’ll likely have nothing good to say. It’s counterproductive.

Welcome to the High Road, population one. 

You see the sign on the side of the road, and you feel like you’ve been through one hell of a ride. The numbness has sort of disappeared, the tears have stopped and now you’re driving alone, and the breeze is refreshing. For the first time in two weeks, you remember what it feels like to be alone, and to feel comfortable in your own skin. The anger, frustration and confusion are still there, but you’re okay and with the support of friends and family, you still find excuses to laugh when something funny happens. Most importantly, now that you’ve reached the high road, you understand that the clean break was necessary and the entire heart-wrenching inner struggle was required to get here. At this stage, you know that when you run into him, you’ll know that you made the right decision not to contact him after the end. And whether you’re ready for it or not, you might have a pleasant exchange. Because at the end of any fling or relationship, a friendly exchange is all you can really ask for. Accept it. Now move on and keep driving forward.