Day 14

Miami was just what I needed. The right combination of cocktails and sunny weather kept my mind as far away from X as it could be. I even tried to scope out potential cute boys, without success (damn the bar X set with his devastatingly perfect features)! I can't promise that I was completely mature, as I was sure to fill in X's roommate (one of our shared friends) on all the elaborate details of my trip and concoct frequent social media status updates for X to see. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when Tuesday morning upon my return, an IM from X pops up on my computer. This is the first time we've made contact since the big day. I have to say though, it wasn't as weird as I thought it would be. Sure it was an impersonal instant message where he asked me questions about unemotional topics and I didn't reciprocate with any questions, but still, I was ok. He was himself, a good guy. I only got the urge to kick him in the balls twice for still putting me in this position. This sounds like major progress.

Day Ten

The past few days I've tried a lot of creative cleansing. I painted not only my own apartment, but the studio and office of a friend, and I tried my hand at a few other creative outlets. Hasn't been working. So, I spent all my frequent flier miles and booked a trip to the ultimate get-over-him spot: South Beach Miami. The last 48 hours has been spent trying to squeeze in every connection possible to have a kick ass trip based around the beach and the Superbowl. Screw traditional means of coping, MIAMI here we come!

Day Seven

The mornings are the hardest part. Half because X is scattered in my dreams where the world is back to normal and half because it is the part of the day when I feel the most alone. I chanted to myself "I love my new life...I love my new life..." while cleaning up around my apartment and making a list of things to occupy myself with. It is still proving to be really miserable.

Today's cleanse will be focusing on my career and setting new goals. After I get in a pilates session (courtesy of pilates set dvds that someone gifted our weekend birthday girl). Deep breath. New month, new week, new perspective.

Day Five

Everyone kept advising me to have the talk. X wanted to have the talk. I thought that making time to have a talk where we break up again in a non-screaming manner was an awfully sadistic move for oneself. Today, we had the talk. One week of no contact (other than a painful IM and stale texts to plan the meeting) and there we were, eye to eye at a coffee shop in Union Square. We made small talk, discussed the core roots of our problems, the catalysts of our arguments, and the sad demise of our relationship. He was sincere with his apologies and was hurt more when I explained my point of view, but this still did not change the facts. We were irreparably broken.

Ninety painful minutes later I had managed to feel better and worse at the same time. Better because we talked through a lot of things and because he alleviated all of the awful things I have been thinking about him for the past week. Worse because all the things we wanted from each other were still not going to happen. I could harp on about how this talk gave us closure, how we owed it to the past 4 years to have a discussion, how it is comforting to end things in a peaceful manner, but I won't. It totally stunk. I cried through the entire event and the only thing that kept me from heavy water works was because we were in a cheerful little coffee shop full of happy people. The only good thing I can say that came from it was that we didn't hate each other. Now all there is left to do is go back to the original plan and focus on the positive.

I think I am still trying to wrap my head around the entire thing, so I'm distracting myself by hosting a small pre-birthday party for a friend. Little presents, treats, and lots of champagne are in order. Tonight might be full of sweets and spirits, but it's still planning a birthday so I qualify it as a positive cleanse.

Day Three

This morning I woke up with thoughts of X in my mind and decided I was in need of a much more literal translation of cleansing. Solution? Operation Scrub Down. For every inch of dirt in my apartment that I scrubbed, swiffered, swept, vaccumed, bleached, dusted, and threw away, a thought of X went with it. As a bonus, not only was my apartment getting a deep clean, but I was totally working up a sweat scrubbing the hardwood floors. Win-win. Then I showered, pulled myself together, and felt like a whole new person. This was definitely the most beneficial method of coping yet! They should sell it in a bottle.

LAST NIGHT RECAP: Around 6pm I realized that I had made one major mistake: I didn't make plans for the night! It took approximately four seconds before I started to think about X and how nice it would be to relax and hang out after a long day of work. I immediately slapped myself on the wrist and went straight to the Blockbuster vending machine: movie night with the girls. A double feature and about half a box of Special K Chocolatey Delight beats out sobbing over a big jerk any night of the week.

Day Two

X reached out yesterday evening to meet up and "have a mature discussion about all this". I told him to go (insert expletive) himself. Clearly I'm still very emotional, so I decided I needed a night out on the town with my two trustworthy friends, vodka and soda. Always available and usually a great time, the only downfall if they ever leave me is fewer calories to burn in the morning.

Four friends and I attempted to catch the infamous Rusty Knot party bus which, like a bad boyfriend, never showed up (can a girl catch a break already?). Improvising, we threw back a few at a local dive and spent the rest of the night dancing away sorrows between Tenjune and Greenhouse. The night got exponentially weirder when I met someone who used to be a DJ at my hometown radio station in Indiana and we spent about 20 minutes singing local radio jingles from 1994. This was my cue to leave and I ended the night (as I discovered this morning) with my clothes strewn about the living room and half a package of cajun turkey missing from the fridge.

Frustrated that X had spoiled my diet so early on, and definitely still feeling the vodka in my system, I forced myself to get up and get back into my productive, proactive, healthy new lifestyle. For breakfast, I had a grapefruit and 20 minutes of toning exercises from last month's Women's Health magazine. I read the news and an enlightening essay on Plato's Forms and am now getting ready for lunch at the new restaurant Tipsy Parson with one of my dearest friends. I am determined to make today a good day.

Day One

And we're off! It's the first official day of the getting over him plan and I woke up early for a quick workout. I haven't quite decided which physical plan is going to whip me into the best shape, so I figured I'd try a few different approaches.

This morning I dusted off my old Billy Blanks Tae Bo Cardio Circuit dvd, chosen for its brevity (a whopping 36 minutes) and Billy's impressively bright yellow tank top. I wasn't too shabby, especially considering the only physical activity I've had in the last 3 days has been moving baked goods from their various containers into my mouth (nope, no plates or silverware needed on the couch of misery). My mother's incredible 4-seed fiber cookies for breakfast, a seared tuna salad for lunch, fruit as a snack... I actually even got showered and dressed today. Reading the news, sketching, some housecleaning to top it off and I feel like an all new person. We're off to a good start!

Day (Ground) Zero

The break-up happened 2 days ago, on a very cold Saturday in January. It was 2AM on a sidewalk in the East Village, New York City. We fought. I cried. He stormed off. I whisked away in a taxi. Simple as that. My three-and-one-quarter year relationship with the love of my life had officially ended in one brisk turn of his shoulder.

I say "officially" because it is hard to pinpoint the beginning of the end. Whether it was that night, the last one-quarter over three years, or even longer as to when small differences became gaping holes, I am not sure that I will ever know. All I do know is that I have never met someone as wonderful as X (well, we'll call him X) and no one has had more of an effect on my life as he did. And now he is gone and it is all over.

On a lighter note, what I can say about the last 64 hours is that it has been a very bittersweet block of time. Very bitter tears being shed and very sweet baked goods being consumed by me and various wonderful members of my support team (i.e. my best friends). 2 batches of extra-butter extra-cinnamon oatmeal cookies, 2 candy bars, one lemon frosted cupcake, one giant peanut butter brownie, one slice of apple pie, one bag of chocolate chip cookies, a bowl of mixed berries, some mint chocolate chip ice cream, and a bottle of wine later... it's time to stop mourning.

It's a great time, however, to test out my ultimate getting-over-him theory (in some crowds we can refer to it as the revenge diet) of getting healthy mentally, spiritually, and physically, and moving on. What's so great about it is that this monumentally emotional thing motivates me to be the best person I can be, and I reap all the benefits as a result. I'm done crying, it's time to get hot.*

*This of course does not start until tomorrow meaning I have 8 remaining hours to eat my feelings through the rest of the cookies & wine. See you then!