The Break-up…sort of?

You are currently reading from the Trials and Tribulations of a Crazy Asian Series.

Just like every girl has a First Date Preparation Routine (FDP Routine), every girl also has a BP – a break-up protocol (also known as Intimacy Incineration Initiative, Romance Recovery, Dating Dissemination Directive, etc.).  Usually mine consisted of driving on the way home (or during a six mile walk) before getting into the shower with a bottle of red, a Milky Way and blasting Celine Dion’s All By Myself as I attempt to wash away the shame and sorrow of yet another failed relationship.  But this time it was different.

As I slammed the door of my Camry shut, I couldn’t feel anything – not the breaking of my heart, the disappointment that came from knowing Rich and I would never be anything more than the nothing we already were…and not the pain that stemmed from the guilt of admitting that I had done this to myself.

As I sat there, parked outside of Rich’s house, and looked up into his bedroom window I noticed that he was pacing.  Perhaps he was thinking about whether or not to stop me – whether or not this, me, us…whether or not it was worth fighting for.  And, for a moment, I thought I might go back for him.  But then, as I looked more closely and carefully, I realized that Rich was not pacing as a result of the stress our conversation had caused him – he was packing – moving across the room trying to gather various items he would or would not leave.

So I put the key in the ignition, wrapped my hands around the wheel, put the car in drive and drove home because if he could go on, I could go on.  If he could leave, I could leave – if he didn’t care then I sure as shit did not give a fuck.

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