Tag Archive: break up


Happy break up!

It is hard. It is often unbearable. It hurts like hell.

But…only for first two months. Then you discover that the Sun still shines, that people are still living around you and hey, so are you!

Then after some time, you start to lough to yourself and your reactions. My last time was:

Day 1: We broke up, I called my best friend, she picked me up and took me for a good cry (you know, sobbing and crying „Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?“ to the skies) and then she drove me to her apartment where I found a bed with sheets with red and black hearts on it and a box of tissues on a night stand. A very own Heartbreak hotel only for me! Aaaaaaah, isn`t that nice?

Day 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and 7: Crying, sobbing, some cursing.

Day 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14: More cursing and really little crying. Lot of walking.

Day 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22,… to 30: State of reflecting (why in the world have I entered in this relationship anyway? Even a blindman could see that he didn`t have what I need). And little more cursing, of course.

Day 30 to 60: Well, well, well, there is life on Earth! And look, I am here too!

Day 60 to 100: Having fun. Really having fun! Going out (hangovers included), dancing all night, meeting new people, re-discovering myself.

And THAT my friend is why a break up is a good thing.

You know those trust exercises people do when you have to let yourself fall into another man`s arms? Well, you have to do it alone. What do I mean? You have to learn to trust yourself. You probably didn`t had an issue with trusting other people in the first place at all, but the problem you do/did have is trusting yourself. Yes, you may fall but you don`t have to be scared, you may easily prevent it, learn how to do it and finally if it happens anyway, to stand up again on your own.

My fall and rise was going like this: OK, this will sound incredible but I never learned to ride a bike when I was a kid. Seriously, I didn`t have the need and I wasn`t too interested. And I always felt a little embarrassed when someone told „Hey, it`s like riding a bike! You never forget it“. Yeah, right…Like I would know how it feels… So I took a friend with the same problem (his excuse is an ununsual one: his parents are hard intelectuals, they encouraged him to play chess, read, and stuff like that which made him a very interesting person, with two master`s degrees, but no common knowledge like….riding a bike). So we took a bike and went on a deserted place. And I tried. And tried. But I was so scared and paralysed from fear that I couldn`t let myself go. Then, a half-miracle happened: an old man came along with this timeless words of wisdom „You have to let yourself fall, otherwise you are never going to learn“. And I thought „What the….?!? Who do you think you are, Yoda??? What kind a cr.. is this?!?“ I mean really, can you imagine the cliche, an old man coming out of nowhere and saying that?

And I did. True, after and hour and a half but I did it. It worked. I pushed myself and wittingly throwed myself to the ground. And it was beautiful. A revelation. Hell yes, I had large bruises on my legs all summer but I it was worth it. Just after that, I sat on it again and….I  was riding a bike! Me, on my own, with nobody holding it, alone, by myself! Riding. A bike. Ha! Look at me, I`m going! Yipeeeeeeeee!

That thing brought me a package of goodies. For example, after that relationship disaster I had few others but I never felt that bad again. Yes, after the break up you will feel the pain but it will never hurt that much again. And you`ll be on your fee in a jiffy. And you won`t ever feel that lost, or desperate again. Why? Because it is always you. Actually, it really doesn`t matter who is the other person. You know you always have yourself and you know that you are strong, that you can do whatever you like, make mistakes, make some incredibly stupid things, but you can will always depend on yourself.

Because you are The One.

The One dragging the rainy clouds over and calling the Sun back again.

And one more thing, use wisely the grieving period, try to concentrate on yourself, it is you that you are sorry for, not him/her and not your lost relationship.

Then, have a blast.

Embarrass yourself, be wild, dance on the tables if you like it, get a tattoo, whatever, just have fun. Treat yourself with beautiful and nice things, tribute yourself in every chance you have, because you are worth it.

And make your break up period a truly remembering experience.

Because you deserve it, 45.

Marrrrrrrriage. Sounds scary sometimes.

But if something is even more scarier, that is the divorce. And it`s consequences. But now, not to wake the awful dark demons, we will fast forward a little bit. Into the period when the divorce is already far far gone. At least it should be.

Regarding it, there`s a one tiny winy detail that I`m bothered with: why some women keep their old husband`s last name?

For example, you had a bad divorce. And I mean really ugly. This is not an exception, people are really rarely separated as friends, truely wishing him/her all best. It sounds almost…utopian. Most women just freeze and obscure when someone even mentions their Ex, and they usually „tagg“ him/her the prefixes like: jerk, idiot, moron, bitch, retard, weasel, loser, bastard….you get the picture. They can`t stand him.

But…they are still walking around with his last name. The name of the same person which they despise and hate.

Therefore I ask – why in the name of God?

If you already hate every particle of his being, you are disgusted of his every trace, why are you still stack with his name? What „drives“ this masochistic need to keep it, not to throw away that stinky garb with which you are cloaked, which you attire every morning then snort with your nose on his smell?

If we think about that „nomen est omen“, what is this telling about you? Your name is a very important thing, we are connecting with it, many studies are made proving the impact of letters and words on our life. People are spending years on therapies for that same strong words which have marked their lives. But THIS name – you are not touching. Why is that? After all that…massacre of divorce, why don`t you change it with some that is only yours and which doesn`t connect you with that odious person and all the suffering you had with it?

Why? For some provincial belief that the divorcee is a damaged good? Socially labeled as defected? C`mon! Get real!

I remembered another situation, the one when He had married again, and the „New wife“ have taken that same last name. I know a very succsessful, educated and very beautiful woman, which is „sticked“ on that New One, bitching about her all the time. Why? Because she thinks that she is The Mrs K. Herself, not the second one. And that she is the only entitled to „use“ this name. Because she was the first. The time is flying by, the Ex and the New one, already have their own baby, but the First one doesn`t gives up. A-a. She is Mrs K. Tones of stupid situations are filling up, the situations in which she has to explain that she is no longer Mr.K`s wife, that she has nothing to do with the certain matter or event, after all – she is a lady, a completly other person and…. But she still stays connected with that man on which she exhausting all her bitterness and venom. Whyyyyyyyyyy????

For the Shakespearean conviction that the rose would smell different? Bullsh*t!!! Even there, the good man Will have clearly showed us that the name IS important. Why, I ask, why don`t you take your maiden name, or some completly new, and after all that suffering grant yourself with a new spring time? The one where everything is waking up, where the world has pure clear colours, interesting sweet scents…The one where new day brings the joy of new beginning, illuminated with the sun`s promise. Without ugly shadows and heavy clouds.

Everyone has the right to make mistakes. Face it, we`re not perfect. But also, we have the right on new debuts, without dragging other people`s bulk on our backs. You know, the right on that easy, uncertain beginnings, without ugly prefixes and suffixes.

Except maybe for the pure adrenalin of the true spring „fix“.

Because you deserve it, vol. 4.

I don`t belong here.

In the present time.

I have dropped, through some odd channels, in this time and now I am trying to manage. And it`s not like I manage so far.

The thing that really bothers me is intimacy. There is none. I mean, I do have my own but someone else`s are constantly getting in my radius. I knowwhat to do with them when somebody brings it directly to me but what should I do, in this age of communicational wonders, when one of it just flops into my life?

Here`s the thing – I was Facing on Facebook. Just wondering around, answered few messagges, watched a video or two and right when I wanted to leave…boooooom! I read that someone from my family was just left by his „better“ half. I mean freshly left, half an hour ago. And the „better“ half who left is whinning, coursing and shitting right there, on the Face. So very…. from it.

And now what? What I am supposed to do? To call the member of the family front, asking how is she, if she needs anything? And what if she asks me how I know about it, I can`t say „I saw it on Facebook“!?! What kind of approach is this?!?

And why in the devil`s name are people publishing it? What happened with the intimacy of  intimacy? And I don`t understand what should we do with such information, to call – or not call, or to play dumb and deaf in the personal discomfort behind the screen, completly ashamed with our bare presence in such a delicate moment in someone`s life?

Fuck such a reality.

Real people in real time… Right.

Then a thought came to my mind.

It must have been wonderful.

It must have been a paradise.

It must have been truely amazing when people waited for a whole month to get some news. When a love letter was expected with sweet longing for weeks, tapping with feet every morning wating for the mailman… When bad news came with big delay and huge pauses, because no matter how many they were coming, people still had at least some time between each of them to recuperate. When people spoke about this things privately, with a possibility to give and take a simple hug. And comfort.

Back then, you knew that something was said exactly to you, not to the whole world.

Back then, only extremly urgent things have required a super fast notice with the carrier pigeon.

And you felt shitty only when that far-flyer would drop his teret on your head, not like this, when anyone can shit out it`s inward and mess himself, his near ones and the ones that really have nothing to do with it.

Without offering some Kleenex…

General bullshit, that`s what it is.

Facing the twitter…Ha!

What I will do is… Well, I will keep on doing what I did till now – if someone tells me something personally, I will react, if not – nothing.

Above me there`s an attic with few generations of pigeons. Lovely birds, by the way. They may represent peace, love…They can tweet….or shit, if it`s necessary. And they are doing it regardless of others. No hard feelings – they felt it and drop it.

Just there. Just like pigeons. Just like plain common birds. Just like millions of them who can`t see the difference between their private shithole and a public wall.