The Short Goodbye

My last relationship ended in 5 minutes. Make no mistake about it, the relationship itself was over a year long. But the goodbye? 5 minutes. Some tell me it was easier that way. Ripping off the bandage. Throwing you in the deep end. Hearing someone tell you over the telephone, it's not you , it's me ...and then he promptly lets some chick move into his house. (Oh, maybe it really was, it's not you, it's HER?) Perhaps it is better being hurt one time, quickly, no flowery preamble (God, I love that word...preamble. Sounds like I am writing about the Declaration of Independence or something...), no dimly lit restaurant, or a 'Dear John' email? Who knows? What I do know is that my last relationship ended in 5 minutes.

See. These are the things I think about when I don't have a job on the horizon.

I was looking at my little black book today. It's my fabulous, little leather bound (moleskin, I think that's what Barnes and Noble called it...) notebook, which hold the secrets to my life.

Some of my secrets include:

That on 2/3/06 I needed to buy carrots, sour cream, onions and butter. That the rear lightbulb on my car (which always seems to go out...) has a stock # 3057LL. That I wanted to check out Robert Downey Jr's CD "The Futurist". That my vacuum cleaner bags are Kenmore Progressive True Hepa. That in order to find Devon's pool in Arlington, VA, I had to take a left at Longfellow, right at Patrick Henry, left at Wilson, and pass a Korean grocery store. That the girls take 3mg of Melatonin. That sometimes I write titles of stories in my little black book. (The Fear of Falling. A Platter of Stress. A Jury of Her Own Peers. The Short Goodbye.)

My little black book holds stuff about myself that I will never remember if I didn't write it down. Sort of like my mini-autobiography.

Anyway, I was looking in my book today, while I was waiting for C to get her hair cut (and man, does she look snazzy at 6 years old!) and I stumbled across a title of mine, "The Short Goodbye". And not only did this one have a title, but there was a pretty good story attached. Then of course, as I sat there reading my story...I started thinking about the Zen-like Heartbreak of February and the short goodbye.

I wonder if the 5 minute goodbye represented the depth of our relationship? I also wonder why I spent over a year with someone who wasn't right for me. Hmmm. Maybe it was because I was just living my life and didn't really want to think about what the relationship was or wasn't? (denial, denial, denial) But, in my defense, don't you think that sometimes when you're IN the relationship, you can't SEE the relationship for what it is? Almost like you can see the trees, but you can't see the forest? The days pass, the bliss is ignorant and love never finds a way?

And then you find yourself a year later...standing on a porch and he's not answering the door.

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

I read in a lame magazine once that when a relationship ends, it takes half the time of the actual duration of the relationship to actually get over the relationship and be able to move onto another. (Of course, that doesn't apply to some men. Apparently, some men can move onto another relationship as soon as they hang up the phone.)

I believe that if the goodbye is only 5 minutes...you should be able to get over it in 5 minutes.

So, I think instead of The Short Goodbye, I will call it Break Up Karma and hope for the best.