There was a Friends' episode (yes, there are so many situations in life where a Friends' reference is appropriate) where Phoebe did Chandler's break up for him because she was good at breaking some one's heart and then having them walk away feeling okay. I, too, am break up royalty...not for the same reasons however, but because mine are usually very memorable.
A co-worker today was encouraging me to make another trip to Maui soon as I need to exorcise my last trip from my psyche. No one should think Maui=break-up...the tourism bureau would not be okay with that image at all. So he and I laughed about the trip for a minute and I said something to the effect of "Yeah, no Cheeseburgers in Paradise for me this time." and he was shocked. I guess I'd never given the full story of how over beers and burgers in a restaurant named after Jimmy Buffet's love of the islands, Alex said to me "Yeah, I've been sleeping with her. Now what?" I remember thinking wow, had I known this is how we were going to start our week in Hawaii, I probably would have ordered something stronger than a beer. Tequila, anyone? But, really, as I've mentioned, I wasn't surprised...I was just shocked by when and where. Should I have told the waiter that he probably shouldn't seat anyone in that table for a bit as there might have been a curse? Did the family next to us, discussing who had the worse sunburn, know they could have just witnessed the strangest confession ever? "Can I have a bite of that? And, by the way, I'm really not attracted to her but don't you understand my predicament?" They could have told their friends in whatever flyover state they were from all about it. However, as I relayed this story to my sister later in the day, I thought to myself, well, at least this time there was no natural disaster to add to the fun.
Right after college, I moved to California for what was to be a 6 month stay on this coast before moving to Charleston, South Carolina with a good Southern Boy who I had dated for the past 3 and a half years. He was a former football player, in medical school and thought I was pretty amazing. But I was 23, and must have known deep down that he would have let me get away with murder and well, that is never a good thing for me. However, I didn't know how to tell him so I let him fly to CA so we could drive back across the country together...for days...and through the vastness of the Mid West...to our new life together. In hindsight, a phone call giving him a heads up probably would have been better as I started to cry minutes after we left the airport...and those tears turned into full on hysterics as I imagined getting to the heart of Texas when I realized I couldn't go any further. I remember singing Red Hot Chili Peppers songs as loud as I could to distract me from the pit in my stomach. It wasn't that I didn't love Dr. South but I knew I wasn't ready for forever...and I really did know I'd hurt him eventually. So, about 8 hours into the drive, in the middle of the CA desert I told him we needed to stop for the night. In a cheap motel room, after a dinner of fried diner food, I spilled my soul. After lots of tears we finished off the poor supply of hotel tissues and we both decided to just call it a night. 4 hours later, with the lamp shaking and the bed moving underneath us, we awoke to a 6.5 earthquake...fortunately centered miles away from nothing but enough to jolt us out of bed. He turned to me with a look that said he understood and I got on the phone, bought him a plane ticket and he flew home the next day. He is not a Facebook friend, by the way...never really got over my decision or my timing.
Maybe I should come with a warning label...kind of like a disclosure so men know what they are getting into...Caution: break ups can be accompanied by ruined vacations or Richter scale rocking shaking.
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