Note: All images are of my brain from an MRI. The images are on a cd and are my backup in case I lose my real mind. Do you have a cd of YOUR brain?
I may not post this–I don’t know. But I need to vent, and to who better than to an audience that gets here by googling something like ‘why is my dog stupid’ or ‘ASKED NEIGHBOR ABOUT TREE - GOT MAD’ or ‘how do panties work.’
All of which are real searches people have done to get here, BTW…though admittedly me dissing them like that wasn’t a good way to endear my readership.
In my (unfortunately) vast experience, breakups often happen like this: You know in the back of your mind that something’s wrong but you can’t quite get that thought transfered to the front of your mind.
Something is happening of course, which you don’t realize until immediately–and I do mean immediately—as the main event begins. Maybe it’s been that the back of your mind hasn’t been yelling loudly enough to the front of your mind or you’re in profound denial. Or both.
I guess it is denial come to think of it. Because usually a breakup is preceeded by this faintly-heard, screaming voice in the back of your mind that’s going “nooooooooooooooo.” You’d think by now I’d have learned to listen to it (and THEN what would I do).
In fact, the front of your mind even says stuff like “if the Man and I don’t work out I’m going to either move South or move to France.” Or (to a friend) “I think we’re near the end…” Yet there’s still this “dense matter” in your brain that doesn’t allow the back and the front to synch up with each other.
That “dense matter” my friends, is the heart. That stupid heart somehow expands big enough to invade your brainspace and actually block thought, as illustrated in this slightly modified MRI image of my brain:
Until the main event: he says something along the lines of “It’s not you. It’s me.” Or the trite (yet oft-used) “I don’t know what it is <editorial comment: bull****> is but my heart’s just not in it,” or <Insert another lame-ass excuse here>. Whatever.
He could’ve said it was because you’re a crazy effing beeatch and he’s scared of you, but in the end it doesn’t matter.
All you hear is that “nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo” sound again, followed by an “ohhhhhhhhhhhhh,” followed by a tear that seeps out even though you swear to god you will not let him see you cry.
You hear your heart crumpling up and going ‘not again.’ I can’t do this again. I really like you. Rapidly this turns into I hate you and HowCouldYouDoThisRightBeforeMyPeriodYouAssholeIHopeYouGetA KidneyStoneTheSizeOfToledo. But I’m not at that point right now. I’m still at “noooooooooooooooooooooo.”
♪ It was late last night. I was feeling something wasn’t right…and a feeling you feel so strong…I knew that there was something wrong…then you gazed up at me and the answer was plain to see, ’cause I saw the light in your eyes. ♫
♫ But we had our fling (echo: we had our fling) I just never would suspect a thing (another echo: suspect a thing), ‘til that little bell began to ring….in my head (echo: in my heaaaaddd)…I tried to run, though I knew it wouldn’t help me none… ♪
Thank you Todd baby (from Something/Anything?). You’ve helped me through many of these effing life experiences…
March 7, 2008 at 7:50 am
Actually, I do have an MRI scan of my head!
And not that I’m defending the dude, but most of us can’t keep girls’ cycles straight.
March 7, 2008 at 8:44 am
i know you are being sarcastic, but you ARE special actually.
i’m just of the line of thought “these things happen”. so this happened. do i cry about it? no. and i happy about it? no. indifference doesn’t really mean elation. if i was sad, then i probably made the wrong choice.
and “my heart isnt in it anymore” is far less cliche than “its not you it’s me”, or, my personal favorite, “this isnt gonna work out” at least it’s a truth. because “it’s notyou, it’s me” is a bold-faced lie when people say that. it’s a consolation breakup. “we’re breaking up, but dont you fret, i’m the fucked up one!”
and after some introspection, i do now how my heart isnt in it, but who wants to sprinkle salt in an open wound? you’re you. and thats amazing. but it’s just not the you i see working with me. so don’t change a thing, don’t worry about who you are, don’t think about anything other than “well it’s his loss” because, relative to your world, and your life, it really IS my loss. because you’re damn special, and you know, some man will fully appreciate it someday. i’m sorry i couldn’t be him.
March 7, 2008 at 12:27 pm
whatever. I’m not having this discussion in my BLOG, for both readers to see.
March 7, 2008 at 9:33 pm
–>Omar, you are bumming me out even more…
You’re married for godsake. You STILL don’t have a clue about your wife’s periods?! Dude–get with the program! This is the “beautiful cycle of life” we’re taught about. There’s nothing beautiful about it, mind you, but I think it’s your duty as a man to at least know when your cherished wife is about to have painful breasts, bloating, cramps, and all the rest of that fun stuff, all for the possible “benefit” of bearing a child. Why the hell should we be the only ones to suffer?!
And couldn’t you just let me pretend-have the pride of uniqueness in my brain MRI? Did I have to have THAT taken away too???!!!
Speaking of adding insult to injury, I woke up this morning to no water due to an apparent water main break. Yeah, I’m livin’ the dream…