WHEEEEEEEE!

A. From the outside looking in, break ups are just SO STUPID but now that I'm on this side of the fence I'm suddenly understanding how they make perfectly sane, reasonable people lose their marbles.

B. When Joe first dumped me everyone was all "OMG I AM SO SORRY! Do you want to talk about it? Do you need anything??"

I was appreciative of the outpouring of support but I was also surprised. Was this what I was supposed to have done every time one of my friends broke up with someone? I had no idea because I'd never been through one before (other than Joe v1, but that was different because I was young and naive)! I thought breakups went like this:

1. Someone is being stupid

2. Break up

3. Feel sad for a day or two

4. Get back on that horse

5. Move on

I even remember a time a few years ago when I told my friend Leslie that her boyfriend was a nice guy but we both know he wasn't the right guy for the long term so CHOP CHOP -- just get on with it already and break up with him. We had that conversation a few times, even.

It all seemed so cut and dry.

Holy crap, was I wrong.

C. I have this other friend who was having a romance that paralleled mine -- college boyfriends, torches that never went out, exwives and custody situations to work out, etc.

We valued each other as confidants who wouldn't tell us that we needed to quit looking back and start looking forward and that we deserved to be with people who were fully available, etc. These are all smart things to say when it's not the love of YOUR life, so we both just avoided discussing this stuff with people because nobody really got it.

So anyhooters, we were on similar roller coasters but mine turned out to be way more fun than hers. I was laughing and having fun and she was having motion sickness. We talked about how long she should keep riding and I told her that I didn't think she should get off until she was GOOD AND READY. I told her she didn't want to live with the regret of not having tried until she was sure she was done trying.

I sent her a print of a roller coaster and told her to keep riding as long as she wanted to.

All that is a bunch of blah blah blah leading up to sharing a part of an email she sent me this morning:

I am waiting at the bottom of the ride for you holding your purse. Go around as many times as you want. I will be here.

And THAT, dear internet, is what got my mascara running at 8 o'clock this morning.

My roller coaster isn't fun anymore but I'm afraid to disembark. He's not even in the theme park with me anymore, but here I am, foolishly trying to keep a smile on my face while simultaneously trying not to throw up.