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this week’s column was posted a day early, and can be read here. you knew i’d have something to say about a dead superhero, didn’t you…

I’ve been receiving quite a few emails lately asking for relationship advice. Those emails make me giggle because I’m in no way qualified to be offering advice. I’m 31 and still single. Obviously, I haven’t taken a magic relationship pill, nor can I help you find this magic pill. If you find a reputable dealer who sells them, by all means pick me up one or three—you’ll be rewarded handsomely.
While I am no substitute for the magic relationship pill, I can share my personal experiences on the topic.

The most recent advice seeking email was from a man asking if it were possible for people to remain close friends after a breakup. In my most recent attempt at trying to maintain a post relationship friendship, it didn’t work out as planned. Sure, if it was casual dating I expect a friendship to remain. But if there’s love and a possible future in the equation, forget it. I cannot go from trying on engagement rings at Tiffany’s to maintaining a casual friendship. I’m a passionate person and it doesn’t work that way for me.

I blame Jerry Seinfeld for creating a generation of people who think remaining close friends is a possibility. Remember, Jerry and Elaine are FICTIONAL! In my very non-TV life, this has never happened.

This email couldn’t have come at a better time. Recently a two-year friendship very dear to my heart ended. This is the nice way of saying the love of my life broke my heart (which is another story for another day). The point is we tried to remain friends after we broke up, but it’s impossible. There are too many hurt feelings and painful memories attached that prevented it from working. We tried, and failed miserably.

After spending a few days too sad to socialize, I decided the sulking had to end. It was getting me nowhere, and frankly not a healthy way to handle heartache. Sitting home alone eating massive amounts of junk food never solves anything, and it makes your jeans fit your ass a little more snugly than they should.

The next day with a renewed sense of self, I did what every self-help book ever written advises you not to do. I started through my Rolodex of ex-boyfriends.

With news coverage of last week’s death of comic book superhero Captain America, I thought I better check in with my very own Captain America. You never know, life often follows fiction and it’s always better to be safe than sorry. I learned he was not only safe and well, but also happy. This should not be a bad thing, right?

It’s not that I expected him to live a life of solitude after our breakup. I just imagined it would take some time for him to move on. Time spent creating a shrine to me. Or at least locked in a candle lit basement with The Cure’s Greatest Hits album on repeat. Really, I just wanted to know there were a few tears shed.

You might imagine my surprise to hear he has a new girlfriend. One who makes him blissfully happy. Hearing that an ex is happy isn’t exactly the easiest thing to hear. It’s not that I want him miserable, but hearing such joy in his voice isn’t exactly comforting. My smarter and more compassionate self, sucked it up and told him I was thrilled things were going so well for him. I felt like I was punched in the stomach by said superhero and tried my best not to throw up blood. Obviously, I’m bitter. In my rulebook, this is allowed.
I hung up after a promise to “get coffee” and “catch up soon”. This, of course, will never happen. I wish it were possible to remain friends with my last two boyfriends. It’s not easy losing a boyfriend and a best friend. In fact, it’s downright shitty.