No breakup is ever easy. I learned this after the end of my freshman year of college when I bid my boo-thang adieu with a very sly, “Okay kid, don’t be a stranger.” He would be graduating and venturing into the real world, and I would be returning to my bagel-filled summer days on the north shore of Long Island. We parted the dearest of friends, hoping to at least keep the contact that lead to our courtship. I quickly learned that this would not be the case.
I texted him, he ignored me. I wrote a poem for him, he untagged himself from my photos and deleted me off Facebook. With each strategic move and maneuver we made — or didn’t make in his case — it became evident to me that breaking up had become less of an action and more of a game. Due to my competitive nature and the belief that I should never lose, which was instilled in me through various sporting endeavors coached by my dad, I was determined to be the victor. I was determined not to lose the ex games.
We have made breaking up into a dangerous game where we tip-toe a line of passive-aggression and silenced hatred. We post pictures on Facebook and Snapchat to prove we’re doing better than our exes. We go out of our way to ignore and avoid our exes. I have changed paths, classes and running routes to avoid awkward conversations with exes in which they proclaim their love for burrito bowls and prove how well they’re doing after one CrossFit session. Much like a game of soccer, also coached by my dad, I have to dodge, avoid, throw a couple of elbows, yell and slide-tackle in an attempt to win the ex games. It does not fare well.
After “dating” (which at the time meant holding hands in the park) a boy in the eighth grade for five days, I decided the best plan of action would be to breakup with him over AOL Instant Messenger. A couple of awkwardly-worded sentences, a dramatic status change and a weird entry in my diary, and everything we could have been ended before my eyes. He made it very clear that we couldn’t just “stay friends” and feelings turned from curious excitement to malicious indifference in a matter of days. Although I would not preach breaking up with your significant other through antiquated chat media, I also wouldn’t advocate for trying to be friends with someone who quickly burns bridges.
There is no correct way to deal with an ex. There is no correct formula where you can input time spent together, divide it by the number of fights over what movies to watch and equate the answer to a ratio of how friendly you should be to them versus how many times you should avoid them on a daily basis.
Do you try to remain friends and forge civil discourse every time you run into them in the gym? Do you cut off all ties with them and increase your travel time so you don’t accidentally collide with them on the way to your 9 a.m.? Each case is specific and different and should be handled with care. I am not advocating for instant friendship between exes, because I don’t necessarily believe that is possible. I do believe that after a breakup, both people involved should take time off from each other. Even the most civil of breakups can turn malicious after sending a clingy text that reads “Happy graduation!” which, naturally, is filled with desperation and reeks of “take me back, I miss you.” Personal anecdotes aside, breakups continue to be a gray area that may never be resolved.
The point is, breakups are hard work. Someone you once considered a friend, confidant, partner or even, dare I say, soul mate quickly turns to what you can only describe as “the worst” to all your friends back home. You shudder when you see their smiling face on Facebook or when they appear on their best friend’s Snapchat story. The truth is, we tiptoe a line of civility and hatred after almost every breakup — unless you are one of the select few who can say you’ve experienced a “mutual breakup.” There is no one way to “win” the ex games, and I believe we should stop looking at breaking up as a competition and start regarding it as a time to distance ourselves and grow as our own person. If we can manage a friendship, that’s good. If we have to avoid them at every turn, that’s okay, too. As for an ex looking like they’re doing better than you, just remember: smiles in pictures can be easily faked and they probably ate a whole pint of Ben and Jerry’s while watching “Love Actually,” too.
Meredith loves telling stories and pretending to be Carrie Bradshaw, minus the man and comfy NYC apartment. She, however, eats enough brunch to cover all six seasons. When she's not drowning in 16th-century literature, she can be found lamenting over the bad grammar and bad boys in her middle school diary.
Find her on twitter @merewilsh or email her mwilsher@bu.edu with all your love musings or questions.
