Conversations...

Conversations happen every day. Part of my morning routine is standing in front of my mirror in messy pjs and scrutinise the flaws that need hiding that day. Conversation 1. I then open my door and shut it, walk down the stairs to the bathroom and voila...conversation 2! Everyone else in the house is now aware that I am in the shower. Half an hour later and numerous more silent conversations, and I'll utter my first words, usually throwing caffeine loosely in there..

'Morning...tea?'..or 'Mmmmning...tea!' or some other variation of a request for tea. Either way, many conversations have been had.

The last few months have seen many things go wrong for many people that I care about. It has been soul-destroying watching them go through the motions...

Week 1:
'He broke my heart. I feel so sick. I miss him so much...' My reply is often the customary hug and nod.

' I lost my job. My girlfriend wants to be with someone else. My life sucks...' Silence is an appropriate response to this particular vent.

'I know I broke her heart. But maybe, she'll forgive me and give us another go.' Wit evades me, so again, silence.

6 months later:
'I need to move on. I am so much better than him. He was never worth my time...' Feminists everywhere struggle with their own coats in celebration.

'I have to take a hold of my life. She was so horrible. I have a job now.' At this point, I offer up some words of religious encouragement, like, 'Door closes, God opens a window' or something along those lines.

'I have to move on. I have done everything and it's not enough for her. So that's my loss.' Hug it out..come on now, hug it out.

(Anyone notice the theme?! No?! Oh dear.)

Then comes the worst bit, usually a year later, but to be honest, many of us live our lives at a far greater pace and so these time frames can be considerably accelerated. It may have happened in a week...

'I just need to know why he stopped loving me. Maybe if I knew..' and this particular statement more often than not, leads to resumption of a toxic relationship.
'I still love her and want to keep trying...' Ditto.
'Maybe if I try hard enough she'll...'

Ok, so you get the picture. Relationships. Conversations in relationships. Conversations with ourselves in relationships.

I never understood why women could spend an age talking about one man. Surely if the relationship was over, nothing new had happened, and we all knew about what had gone before...so what the hell were we still talking about?!

Dealing with a break up, or rather being dumped, often begins with lunch dates with the girlfriends, then drunken nights out,with brunch the next morning to analyse the night, then the phone calls and texts (usually when said monster is spotted by any member of the group), and most embarrassing, the haranguing of his mates (either directly, or via your own possie...possie- good word) to find out what post code in relationshipville his mind currently occupies. Recent evidence suggests that men seem to go through a similar process....there's a lot less chat, but the intentions are the same. We are all trying to find out wtf happened.

I would be insane to think that any of these initial processes can be done away with. I've been there, and were it not for the Power Puff girls in my life, I'd probably still be in the same bed covered in scales and the unmistakeable odour of a 'pitiful sod'. What baffles me is what happens thereafter. I learnt very early on life that 'getting over a break up' was a rather contrived process, often informed by happenings on 90210 (the old school one), and in recent days, the lavish world of gossip girl. I often felt like shit, but I still engaged my brain into making decisions that would inform my progress. A couple of statements that I have coined over the years...

'You are so full of horse manure that I cannot even possibly cry over you or stop my life to wonder why'.
'You had this. You lost it. I will be the living memory of how idiotic you are.'
'Okay. Let's cry. But only once. No one else in the world will respect me if I admit to this cry, let alone let it happen twice.'

And that has been the end of it. In recent years however, people have developed a self-torturous ritual of going over  the same things twice, hating someone so incredibly that nothing else in their life can happen, and then every few months, going over the same things again, just in case you know, the hate diminished a little or something. This baffles me...the conversations that I tend to repeat in my life are routine, such as getting up or having a shower. I can't say I was born in the process of breaking up, so why the hell would I want to make it routine?!

My point is that we draw out the hurt and self-depreciation by insisting on having the same conversation more than once. Take a minute and be brutally honest with yourself about your situation- take out all the emotion, and for a fraction of your miserable day, engage your brain. Make a decision. Sweeping statements like mine are only devised after years of hard practice. Start small. 'I will not call him today' or 'I will not call my friends to have the same conversation, especially if nothing new has happened'. And by new, I mean an actual physical event. New thoughts in a mind clouded by break up red mist...not so new.

Take it one day at a time...small achievable goals and hooorah! You'll be in a completely different place even two days after a break up. Just promise yourself not to have the same conversation twice. Ever. In your relationships, in your life's cock-ups, in your work, with your family. So much time awasted, and nothing achieved.