Читать книгу It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken: The Smart Girl’s Breakup Buddy - Greg Behrendt - Страница 35

After about a year and a half of marriage, my first husband and I separated (his idea) but remained in couples therapy (my idea). It became relatively clear that we were moving more toward divorce than reconciliation, and I was crushed. So our therapist suggested that we try to go thirty days without any contact to see how the reality of not being in each other’s lives felt. No talking on the phone or in person. Are you kidding me? Do I look like I’m made of wood? That’s like asking me to climb Mount Everest in strappy Manolos. I’m not at all conditioned for this kind of workout. Aren’t you supposed to ease me into the idea? Wean me off of him over the course of a few months? It sounded like an impossible task. Even though we had been separated, we were still talking every day, taking the subway to work together sometimes, and spending a good amount of time together. Dinners, rock shows, did I mention that we took the subway together? Clearly, I needed to remind our therapist that he was my best friend and that even if we didn’t make it as a couple, we were pretty set on staying friends, so this whole “No Contact” thing didn’t really apply to us. When I informed her of this, she stared at me blankly as though I had failed to make a valid point of any kind and suggested that we begin the thirty days in the morning.

Is she crazy? I thought. I can’t go thirty days without talking to him. That day he and I talked on the phone until midnight and then said good-bye for a month. At 12:01, I felt like calling him right back to say that I couldn’t do it, but instead I turned on the TV and made myself go to sleep. Surely I could last overnight while I was sleeping. The next morning was harder. But I made myself get through the day, and every time I wanted to call him I called my friend Janet instead. I can’t tell you how often I thought about calling him in those thirty days, because for the first two weeks the number would have to be in the thousands. And you can imagine how many times I called Janet during those two weeks. It was like an endurance test. But I was determined to get through those thirty days. I realized that if this was the beginning of the end and I was about to spend the rest of my life not talking to him, then I had better get used to it.

So for the first two weeks I thought of pretty much nothing else. But then the most amazing thing happened. I realized that I had gotten through TWO WHOLE WEEKS! That’s FOUR-TEEN WHOLE DAYS of not talking to him, and suddenly I became wildly impressed with myself. I was Superhuman. I spent more time congratulating myself on being so kick-ass than I did thinking about calling him. The reward of my own strength during an incredibly weak time and the pride I felt by getting through each day without caving in and calling him was unbelievably empowering. It was like my strength fed itself once I finally got over the hump. It was hard. I thought about calling every second of every day…until I didn’t anymore. And you know what? On the twenty-seventh day, he called me. He didn’t make it to thirty days. He said it was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. And it was. But the feeling I got from being stronger than my weaknesses far outweighed its being hard by a mile. Feeling great about yourself makes you feel invincible, and that’s how I felt. Which is a long way from where I was on day one. And while I hated that therapist for sentencing me to such a harsh reality, I would have never known what that felt like if I’d continued to be a slave to the phone.