Laughs

hang in there, skipper!

Before you get your beaver in a bustle, listen, I know. I know it’s hard to know WHAT to say when you see a dear friend hurting because the boy they loved decided sexting someone named after a plastic doll with amphibious looking toilet parts was a better idea than being in a mature relationship (hey, ho, who put that bitter spoon in my mouth?).

I know it’s uncomfortable to watch someone completely break down because the boy they loved to a fault for 6+ years wanted to end things because “I was never good at sharing” – when that breakdown leaves you digging, scrambling, clawing for something, anything that will make this sad sack of slobbering snot feel just a little bit better than a flattened pigeon on University Place.

Sometimes silence is golden, especially if you’re about to pull one of these out of your deck of dispair:

• “When God closes a door, he opens a window.” Um, when did God start paying the heating bill around here? Close the fucking window. And what if I’m on the first floor without protective bars? What if God decides all this entry and exit opening trade off is going to happen in the middle of the night? Sounds more like “When God closes a door, he sets you up for a good lubeless ass rape.” How about this, I’ll figure out what stays open when, and God takes care of people in war zones, victims of child slavery, and prostitution, k?
• “When one chapter closes, another begins.” I see where we’re going with these. Endings are beginnings and all that. Phoenix from the flames. No, really, I’m with you. But listen, I don’t need any more stories like this for my not yet written memoirs. I’ve got enough from when my parents got divorced and when I was a real slutbag.
• “Greta McGibblets’ brother just turned 18 and his weener got caught in a vice and they had to remove it, things could really be a lot worse.” Ah, the ole “get some perspective” angle. When you can barely taste anything but your own regurgitated sob snot, it’s even harder to swallow other peoples’ pain. Your (and I’m obviously talking me here) pain is so all encompassing there is no pretending to NOT be self centered. It’s self centering. When I first began dealing with my break up, I was so self absorbed I wasn’t even interested in my self. I was inside out. There is no sense trying to trigger a “ah ha! Others have it worse than me, what I am thinking? OVER IT!” moment in someone that dark. It will come.
• “I didn’t like him anyway.” Oh, cool, you didn’t like the man I saw myself having 8 smoking hot babies with. Now I feel better. LET THE HEALING BEGIN! This sentence is telling someone who is already low down that they also have poor taste in people and are a horrific judge of character. Love is blind, yo.
• “You just need to get laid.” Nothing boosts wailingly low self esteem and a shattered heart like good soul destroying rando sex. I mean, after being rejected by someone who knew you in and out, who could probably id your farts in a stink line up, why not join fuzzyparts with a random and go through the cycle of shame? What am I waiting for? I should be on Craigslist right now! SEE YA, SUCKERS!!

I was lucky enough to have so many incredible trustworthy salt of the earth humans in my life at my lowest that I was safe from most of this. And I really do get it, in the heat of the comforting moment, is there anything right to say? And what’s worse, tripping over your own face and saying the phrases above with your heart in the right place, or being the once traumatized dick who writes about them?

There are no right answers when it comes to love, only power in the ability to snark at your own certainly surmountable challenges.