Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Table For One

Those who are avid readers of my many literary incarnations, know
that while I am partial to timeless axioms, I am a most ardent detractor when it comes to cliches. That being said, I must admit that the cliche which states that "one should not air one's dirty laundry in public",
seems to be the only appropriate turn of phrase that can best preface a
post that talks about the aftermath of a break up.

I have once again, joined the ranks of the single. You know who you are.
You spent valentine's day at home avoiding the TV because every time
a news anchorman blathered on about roses and chocolates, it felt like
someone was impaling your heart with a searing butcher knife.

There is some good news to report from the field. Frozen turkey dinners
have improved, and actually have a passing resemblance to real turkey - unlike
their tin foil predecessors that looked like shoe insoles, and tasted like Melba toast
dipped in paint thinner. They also seemed to have decided to do away the customary
side dish of fifteen peas that looked like shriveled leprechaun testicles.

Fortunately, I have recently moved into more suitable accommodations, so I
am no longer a slave to the culinary abortions that you stick in the microwave.
I can actually cook a real meal that has not been prepared by some giant machine
run by that crazy robot from Logan's Run. Not that I've actually been motivated
to cook anything yet, as I have yet to return to the ranks of those who have good
taste and proper sleeping habits.

The worst thing you can do when your wading through the emotional soup
that is a break up, is actually start reading about what your going through. Take
this encouraging passage I found from a cold and clinical study I had found
perusing the Internet.

"After a divorce, and/or break up, single men often move to sparsely furnished
bachelor apartments, often spending hours staring at the fixed points on the wall,
or of old pictures of their loved one."

It's one thing to be alone and heart broken, it's another to feel like your the subject
of an episode of Wild Kingdom.

Like all things that hurt in life, it gets easier. I guess every relationship, when you are able
to look back with a less jaundiced eye, always feels like the first and the last. Not to
down play the significance of this one. It was one of the most meaningful 3 years of my
life, and I wouldn't change them for anything. Except maybe for a talking monkey that
drank brandy all day, but otherwise said nothing except to quote Calvin Coolidge when
the situation warranted it.



1 comment:

Paula said...

I extremely understand Mr.Joe Cordially I am sitting here wondering why my ex of thirteen years ago has not come up with some rare incurable disease as i may have asked unconsciously for. It has been 13 years but still i'm angry that he had moved on without resolving things with me first. Its funny how i could wish such horror on someone i loved and most likely still love... but rejection or atleast the feeling of rejection is a powerful evil."They" say it is a necessary evil but you know what i say "who are they and why don't they shut up?" well i have little advice as sometimes life is a cold place but think of the good things like that turkey dinner.