Hiroshima (dropping the big one), continued.
So what’s the proper etiquette for breaking up? The correct way to end a relationship is a heart-to-heart in person of course, if you’re any sort of real man with integrity and half a sack left. I prefer by phone, text, or just to move out of town and never tell her. Sure you’ll have someone hating you with the white-hot passion of a thousand suns, but that’s a small price to pay to avoid all the waterworks and histrionics. If you’re on the receiving end then you’ll find yourself ushered into the car for a ride towards dreaded McKinley Park, sensing something horribly wrong in the air through your partially rolled down window like a dog going to the veterinarian. Wait baby, why are we pulling up at the park? We’re not going to the airport like you said, are we?! What do you do if you sense that your partner is ready to give you the axe? Time to employ the pre-emptive breakup. Before they can speak tell him or her that you have something to say first and go through the whole speal:
“I respect you and your choices. I just want to see you happy. I’ve really valued the time we’ve had together and I’ll always hold a special place in my heart for you. It’s probably for the best and honestly I’ve been thinking about it for a long time anyway.” (By the way this is easy to clip and paste into an email or a Facebook message for convenience).
So congrats – you dropped the hammer before they could. Of course it’s quite possible that they weren’t going to break up with you at all, and you probably have just done the stupidest thing in your life and ruined your one and only chance at eternal bliss with your soul mate, but fuck it – it’s better to kick a field goal and get some points on the board then risk a shutout.
One of you has been dumped, dogged, dissed, dismissed, dishonorably discharged, pink-slipped, handed your walking papers, shown the door, terminated, cut from the squad, didn’t make varsity, now the mayor of splitsville – population: one. But don’t feel bad - turn that frown upside down little camper! The actual breakup is just the start of a process – the first pawn in a long and complex chess game with several possible outcomes. And it’s time to check your mate, if you know what I mean.
First off girls are much more clever than men – they will scope out their next prospect and only then pull the trigger on a breakup. What?! You’re telling me that the muscle-head independently wealthy guy at the gym who is nice enough to spot her while she does thirteen sets of squats isn’t just her friend? Wow I never saw that coming. She might fake a fight, or make up an excuse why it’s over that’s a Catch 22, like that you work too much but you don’t have enough money to spend on her, or that you have too many friends but you guys don’t go out and socialize enough. It’s not uncommon for a woman to go through every text, phone call, email, Facebook Post, receipt, scrapbook, tax return, and Christmas card you’ve ever had with the scrutinizing eye of a scientist looking for a cure for Polio. Usually they will find something because they are looking. “Why are you telling other women that you love them and can’t wait to see them for Thanksgiving?” But baby that’s an email to my mom.
Women are damn good at making men feel guilty for the shit that they do. Men fall for it almost 100% of the time, but chics are far more scandalous than guys these days. Going through a breakup the truth will come out and that her behavior is far more egregious than what you’d ever imagined, especially when alcohol and raw emotion are involved. They say Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus, but that’s not an excuse to let someone near Uranus.
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| Uranus |
Am I rapidly pissing off my female fan base? Ladies; there are two things you need to understand. Number one: I don’t give a shit. And Number two, I will also admit that us men are basically brain-dead creatures, automatons who have only one mission – impregnate as many women as possible. The ship is being steered by somewhere way down in the engine room. Only at this point in evolution the wires are crossed because we are obsessed with practicing impregnating a woman but almost equally consumed with avoiding the commitment it may lead to. Think of a Labrador when you think of a man – when you throw a ball he will chase after it every single time, but when he catches it he’ll probably just slobber all over you and drop it.
Men are weak, confused, and emotionally sloth-like. It’s true. The fraternity of mankind has real difficulty being honest, and we delude ourselves into thinking we’re doing it to protect the women we care for. We let our testosterone run rampant and unfortunately give women a reason to look through all our shit because we’re so busy chasing everything with two tits, a hole, and a heartbeat. A creature as de-evolved as Snooki gets our blood racing like barracuda swimming with Flavor Flav at feeding time. But women operate on levels of genius subtlety and deception that we can’t even begin to comprehend. Fellas – you may actually feel bad when there’s a breakup and attempt to be friends and comfort your ex. Don’t – you’ll end up getting steamrolled. She may be turning on the waterworks like Niagra Falls now, but by tomorrow she’ll be driving shotgun in a red Mercedes convertible with a swarthy Persian guy who’s got her boob job on layaway.
Welcome Back to Earth (the first days):
It’s official - one way or another the relationship has ended. Playing the first days right can make all the difference between moving on to a wonderful world of self discovery and personal growth OR men in white coats coming to take you to a place where you’ll drink your steak through a straw and play volleyball in a bathrobe all day.
If there is one thing that I can impress upon you it’s this: when a relationship first ends, the first one who blinks, loses. That’s it. It’s about power, and the first one who caves and makes contact with their now-ex has lost that power. It doesn’t matter if you plan on getting back together with them or not, it’s all about getting the upper hand through the stormy first days. No one ever begins the healing process and actually starts getting over a broken relationship during this time so don’t even try – it’s about surviving the inevitable process of Clearing the Juju. So the longer you can ignore them the better.
The first night or two you’ll have the urge to go out to the bars, get blindly drunk on cheap Tequila, and try to hook up with the first mammal with opposable thumbs that shows you some attention. To handle this maturely resist that temptation, instead staying home and playing Enya while making a list of your feelings and emotions. Hahaha no just kidding - party like a Russian billionaire because trust me, they are doing the same. You’ll put on a shiny shirt you haven’t worn in two years, listen to a God-awful Black Eyed Peas song while you’re “trimming the hedges” in the shower, and have some friends you don’t even like pick you up in their smoky Honda Civic for a night at the club.
It won’t go so well. Of course you’ll get inebriated and have a few cheap laughs, maybe you’ll even have wild monkey sex with a complete stranger, but in the morning you’ll feel like shit. You’ll be blindsided by a combination of factors that would make Anthony Robbins slit his wrists with rusty butter knives: you’re hungover, it’s Sunday, it’s raining, and they’re playing the Notebook on TV (girls) or Jerry McGuire (guys). You’ll both remember that this was “Your” movie together (even though your ex secretly hated it) and have a complete emotional breakdown around the rowboat in the rain scene (girls) or when the little bug-eyed kid says the human head weighs 8 lbs (guys). A flood of longing and regret will wash over you, and you’ll reach for the phone.
Inevitably you find an excuse to contact your ex – you’ll send them a nasty text message, or say that you want to come pick up your stuff from their place, or that you have a funny rash and you’re wondering if they have the same. The absolute worst thing you can do is cave in and meet up with them. But you’ll do it anyway. It may be the first day or the first week but it will happen.
The good news is that you’ll have this incredible breakup sex. This will be a Bacchanalian playground of pleasure like you’ve never shared before – the best sex you’ve ever had. She’ll do some crazy upside down yoga position shit that you’ve only seen on the internet, or he’ll knock the bottom off of it so well that you’ll be wondering what stunt double stud replaced the gelatinous one-and-done cupcake that was your boyfriend. Take pictures, or even better shoot a video if possible. This will come in handy later on as blackmail insurance in case things get ugly. Right after breakup sex is probably the one and only honest moment you’ll have in your relationship. During this post-coital truth session don’t ask too many probing questions about how many partners they’ve had, who cheated on whom, or how you measured up against their other sexual partners, because unfortunately they will tell you the truth.
At some point during the breakup the fighting will get ugly and you both will try to verbally cripple each other. Don’t take anything they say personally during these diatribes because they are just lashing out in proportion to how much they feel hurt. A guy can rant and rave and sling insults all over the place, but nothing we can yell at her really hits home; “I never loved you.” Boring. “You’re breath smells like cheese, and not even a good kind of cheese.” Big deal. “You get more ass than a toilet seat.” Duh, don’t you think she already knows that? Girls have a HUGE advantage in the psychological warfare that is a breakup because they can deflate our egos like a javelin going through a float in the Thanksgiving Day parade. Nothing guys can say is half as damaging as the coup de grace of emasculation - a woman berating a man’s penis size. Realize that they are just saying this because they’re mourning the loss of the relationship – it was good enough the whole time you were together and she even told you once that it was the best sex she’s ever had. Then again, she did date that 6’9” pro basketball player before you.
Of course this has never happened to me (cough cough) but there is only one appropriate response if a woman ever berates the size of your manhood, a polemic strategy referred to as the “Enormous Vagina Defense.”
Her: “You have a small dick.”
Him “No, you just have an ENORMOUS vagina!”
Nuff said. Damn I’m good.
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