An Affair to Remember

(Photo Credit: Barbara Kinney, Hillary Clinton for President)

It’s over and you know it, but you’re having a hard time letting go. She couldn’t have been any clearer. She was hurt, too – reluctant, disappointed, honest about her mistakes – but in the end she insisted it was time to move on. She begged you to make a clean break and not waste time looking back, wondering what might have been. “Life is too short,” she gently reminded you, “time is too precious.” She even tried to push you into the arms of someone else, someone with whom, she was convinced, you could do great and important things. Meanwhile, everyone around you is high on consolation and full of advice about what you should do now, claiming she was never right for you anyway. “This other guy,” they say, “really, he’s the one.”

But your broken heart is stubborn and slow to change. For months, you felt as close to her as the tick is to the dog, and you rode the roller coaster of her shifting fortunes. When she was up, you were high as a kite, giddy with possibility. When she was down, you crashed to the ground, convinced the world was ending. Now that it’s over, she still haunts you. You remember all the little things about her you found so captivating – her laughter, her tears, her feistiness, her – yes – feet. You wonder how she is, what she’s doing and feeling. You search for examples of others who are suffering as you are to see how they are coping. You take comfort in the words of praise being showered upon her, even from those who once criticized her and always thought you should be with the guy. You get satisfaction out of the murmurs of criticism suddenly being aimed at the dream guy, as closer scrutiny reveals he may be mortal after all. “Told ya so,” you churlishly mutter.

How can you mend a broken heart? You try shopping, but the new gadget you want won’t be available for a month and the furniture you ordered won’t be in until fall. Clothes shopping is no good because every pantsuit reminds you of her. “I bet she’d like this one,” you catch yourself thinking. “It’s just the right combination of elegance and practicality.” You hit the gym for the first time in months, thinking exercise would be a healthy distraction, but even your iPod is an instrument of torture, as cheesy Madonna lyrics manage to summon up her image: “You always love me more, miles away / I hear it in your voice, we’re miles away.” You’ve got a business trip/vacation coming up, so you could be planning an Arctic adventure, and there’s a long list of movies you didn’t see and books you didn’t read while you were sitting on the couch all those months, waiting to see how things would work out with/for her. Still, nothing feels quite right yet. Nothing really satisfies. A certain bitterness lingers.

Come on now! Get up! Get out! Move on! She wouldn’t want you pouting! Remember what she said as she was leaving?

[I]t would break my heart if, in falling short of my goal, I in any way discouraged any of you from pursuing yours.

Always aim high, work hard, and care deeply about what you believe in. And, when you stumble, keep faith. And, when you're knocked down, get right back up and never listen to anyone who says you can't or shouldn't go on.

Hear that? Get right back up, she said! There's work to be done, dreams to be realized, new worlds to be conquered and new love to be made.

Right, yeah, sure, be right with you . . . .

I'm like a fish out of water
a cat in a tree . . .

I got a big chain around my neck
And I'm broken down like a train wreck
Well it's over I know it but I can't let go
Well it's over I know it but I can't let go
Well it's over I know it but I can't let go
Well it's over I know it but I can't let go