Welcome to the land of sorrow and disappointment, otherwise known as the  BREAK UP. We’ve all been there, right? We meet someone that is completely amazing, perhaps not as amazing as Brad Pitt or, say, young Leonardo Dicaprio; but he’s certainly up there. Kind of. Anyway, here’s this perfect guy (in your eyes) and you’ve been with him for about four years. FOUR YEARS. That’s 48 months, 208 weeks, and 1,460 days of your precious time devoted to this one individual in our massive universe.

I’m going to marry him. He will father my children. We’re going to grow old together.

Hate to burst your bubble, but you are not going to marry him, he will not father your children, and you are not going to grow old together. I don’t mean to be a negative Nancy but trust me, I know how the story goes, and I’ve heard it far too many times. Friday night date night rolls around and, as usual, at approximately 7:06, there’s a light knock at the door. You give your hair one last fluff while glancing quickly at the mirror as you grab the purse off of the hallway table. A soft kiss greets you, and you love birds fly off to the 8 o’ clock reservation at Olive Garden (that he insisted was ridiculously difficult to get even though everyone knows you don’t need to make a reservation at Olive Garden.)

While awaiting the chocolate dipping sauce for your favorite zeppoles (you’re a sucker for fried delicacies) he clears his throat and gently caresses your hands.

“Listen, babe, we need to talk.” He pauses while you take a sip of your peach iced tea and nod in encouragement.
“We’ve been together for a long time now. I love you so much, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about us and our future.”

This is it. It’s actually happening.

You flash a subtle smile and lean in a bit closer.

He continues, “I’ve thought about it. I love you; you’re the most important person in my life-”

“YES! Yes, I do, I do!”

“Really? I’m so relieved to hear that!”

“Of course! I love you too everything has been amazing but-”

“We’ve been together for too long. It’s time to see other people, see what else is out there. I’m so relieved to know that you feel the same way,” he finishes.

You give him a puzzled look. What? “No. I was going to say, but it’s time to take our relationship to the next level. Wait. You’re breaking up with me?”

This never once crossed your mind; after all, if not today, then he was probably going to propose, like, next week. This is insane. I mean after all the time you’ve been together, how could he do this to you? The conversation ends with “I’m sorry’s” and “I understand’s”. All the while you’re trying to keep your cool because there’s no way he can know that you’re actually a mess inside and that part of you wants to rip his head off. The car ride home is awkward and tense. There’s so much you want to say but you keep it inside, knowing that as soon as you open your mouth, you’ll break down in tears.

You exchange a quick goodbye and almost fall out of the car in an attempt to get out of there as soon as possible. As soon as you shut the door behind you, there’s no holding you back. The sobs become louder and louder as the minutes tick by. You crawl onto the couch with a pint of Oreo cookie ice cream and manage to swallow large spoonfuls in between sobs. Cupid is a jerk. After an hour of nonstop eating, crying and an overplayed episode of America’s most loved family, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, you call it a night and doze off right there on the couch. At around 3am anxiety kicks in and you’re awakened to the sound of your rapidly beating heart. This isn’t over, Henry. In an effort to mend the broken relationship, you go ahead and give him a call. After all, this isn’t a break up. It’s merely a misunderstanding between two people who love each other deeply. This was definitely not mutual, which means that you didn’t really break up.

After thirty calls and fifteen voicemails there is still no response. That’s okay. You can always call him in the morning. Better yet, why don’t you stop by his office with his favorite chocolate donut and a coffee? Do whatever it is that you have to do. If you can’t catch him there, that’s fine, just drop by his apartment after work with a box of pepperoni pizza. How about you send him a quick text explaining how you want to return all of the gifts you’ve received from him over the years because you “just can’t stand to see them”? He’ll definitely respond to that! He’ll be forced to talk to you. He’s obviously just confused and doesn’t know what he wants, and it’s your job to let him know that this isn’t acceptable. After all, you didn’t waste 48 months, 208 weeks, and 1,460 days of your precious time devoted to this one individual in our massive universe, just to end up getting dumped. 

There is a double standard between men and women (as with everything else in life) regarding love and relationships. When a woman decides to fight for lost love she is labeled as the “crazy ex-girlfriend”. Maybe she doesn’t want the relationship back, maybe she just wants to get closure, try to understand what went wrong. Did you ever think about that? No, because you were too busy complaining to your friends and family about how crazy she is. When a guy fights for lost love he’s “a hopeless romantic.” Let women fight for love in peace without having to be labeled crazy for doing so. Let them cry into their double chocolate chip ice cream as they watch The Titanic for the hundredth time. Let them call twenty times at four in the morning. Let them stalk you on social media as their heart desires. Let them plan casual run-ins at your favorite local bar so you can see how totally awesome they’re doing without you. Worst case scenario is you have to file a restraining order.