Let me make one thing clear: this has nothing to do with love.
I'm no expert. The very word makes me nauseous and sets my body to a defensive mode. But I have had my heart broken once or twice. Badly. By some pathetic loser by the way who, in my blissful juvenile ignorance, contained my whole world: my oxygen, my insides, my reason for being without whom I'd wither and die to nothingness blah, blah.
Somebody should have whacked me across the head with a Dr. Phil self-help bestseller in hard cover - it may have been enough to cause selective amnesia. But no, I have had to endure many, many self-inflicted humiliations the magnitude of which almost surpasses George W. Bush's abundant stream of faux pas, which I suspect include nuking someone's ticker.
With no access to a warhead, however, to deploy my heart's retribution, I resorted to good old fashioned emotional meltdown that rivaled Chernobyl. Not only have I said and done it all in the name of witless love - things I loathe to enumerate lest the wrath of Virginia Woolf strikes me dead - I have listened excruciatingly to my girlfriends and their hearts' lament on losing Mr. Loser, er, Mr. Right. And the twisted plot to get him back.
What I bemoan most of all is that not one good sista gave it to me straight. That I will change.
So, if a looming break-up is coming your way (trust me, we can all see it coming!), read, learn and gain wisdom from the mistakes of others because you don't want to make them all!
For the ladies who have been-there-done-that and, hopefully, out of the singles jungle, enjoying the safety and comfort of Tarzan's little love-nest high up on the treetops, be a real friend and show the girls how it's done.
Delete, delete, delete ... all traces of your ex.
If your memory is better than mine, there are two phone numbers you know by heart: your mum's and your ex's. In your quest to "get over him", first, delete him from your digital memory store starting with your mobile phone. Erase his mobile number, work phone, home phone, his best friend's number, his mother's number - especially!
If you're an IM user, block him immediately and blacklist his email address from your mailbox.
Then remove every piece of clothing, toiletry and dirty underwear he left behind in your bathroom. And no, don't even think of washing and neatly packaging these into a bundle for him. The concierge has closed and will not be re-opening. Ever.
Whatever you do, DO NOT call him.
It's pathetic, really. What are you hoping to accomplish? No, you won't get him back because he's not coming back. The bottom line is if he dumped you, he's not into you. Sound familiar? The word on the street is true and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.
OK, so there are those lucky people that get back together and live happily ever after.
In the movies!
If you're living in the same world as I, you know it's the exception, not the rule. Sadly, most women seem to think, to their detriment, that their situation is somehow always an exception: as if they live in a parallel reality where the rules of engagement do not apply because for some unknown and far-imagined reason, many are under the illusion that they're immune to life's cruel veracity. Well, you're not. The rule of life rules, unless the odd exception, freak-of-nature type event occurs. And it rarely happens. The sooner you realise that, the better.
So, in your moment of pathetic weakness, it's completely understandable and even acceptable to max out your credit card for much needed retail therapy. Even indulge in uncharacteristically obscene behaviour including binge-drinking, a drunken pash or two with complete strangers, or hysterical emotional outbursts in embarrassingly crowded places. Just make sure you're in the company of people who give a damn about you - your friends.
Scream. Cry. Laugh. Do whatever it takes to flush him out of your system. But for goodness' sake, do not call your ex.
Should I return the gold watch he gave me?
Are you kidding me? It's yours. Keep it. Or better yet, take all the valuable items he's ever given you to cash converters - the gold necklace for your birthday, the beautiful pair of earrings last Christmas and that gorgeous bracelet for Valentine's Day. Then buy yourself a new pair of Jimmy Choos. It will elevate your height as well as your mood.
Turning his precious little gifts, which are rightfully yours, into cold hard cash will satisfy a scorned woman's desire for sweet revenge. Albeit briefly. But who cares? Right now, little victories are what you need to get you over the line. And over him.
Let's be friends? Yeah, right!
Oh, please! If you are insisting on remaining friends with an ex who dumped you like vomit, you're up o something and it won't do you any good.
Problem is, you can't see it. So let me make it clearer for you: he's not coming back.
Wake up and smell the stench. You're standing on a gigantic pile of horseshit collected over the years starting from the time you believed in the myth of Cinderella. Didn't you know? She divorced her prince two months later: they weren't compatible after all.
So, think long and hard about your real motivations. Life is good but it ain't a fairytale.
If he's the one wanting to remain friends, well, beware. Remember, he dumped you. So it's neither an invitation for renewed romance nor for any kind of "real" friendship you want or need right now.
Let me tell you a little secret. Most guys, unfortunately, are cowards. They are scared to death of hurting our feelings because we all go "emotional on them!. They will do anything to weasel their way out of very difficult situations. The fact is, if he wants you, and I mean want-you-so-badly-it-hurts, there are no mixed messages. He will move heaven and earth to be with you. If he's not in to you, the only thing he'll move is his thumb: "want 2 come over 2nite?"
Need I say more?
Get a life ... darn good one!
The sweetest revenge is to live a happy life. And it's the only way to live.
But first, change your sheets.
Call your friends. Dance around the house in your underwear or naked if you prefer. Attend a party. Drink good champagne. Wear amazingly red lipstick. Strut around in ridiculously high stilettos. Visit your hairdresser.
Smile.
Chat up a good looking guy at a funky bar. Wear perfume. Flirt. Play games and play it cool. This time, you're the predator, not the prey. Take a risk.
You're so sexy. Who wouldn't want you?
And if you're still weary of rejoining the singles jungle, here's a tip: run an ad for a male flatmate. You may be surprised at what you'll find. Tarzan might just come knocking at your door.
Live life. It's the only one you've got.
Robelen Bajar is a freelance writer with a Mr. Strong Man who's so in to her.
