Get Out of My Head

It fascinates me when people have such difficulty getting over an ex. She knows the ex didn’t treat her right. She knows he’ll drive her crazy. She knows he’ll disappoint her frequently. She knows he won’t change. She knows she’s better off without him. None of it matters.

The heart overrides the mind.

It’s a sort of addiction, isn’t it? Gosh, so many options abound, but none of them compare. I experienced something similar when I stood in the cookie aisle of Ralph’s. I wanted Double Stuf Oreos—not Single Stuf or that awful low-calorie version. Guess what? They were out. No DSO for me. There were no less than thirty tasty options surrounding the blank space on the shelf that represented the emptiness in my stomach and unfulfilled desire in my mind. Those other cookies could not compare. I hungered for DSOs and, regardless of my logic, my mind was overridden. I drove to Vons.

I try to be a supportive friend when speaking with an afflicted female. It’s not my finest skill.

“You just got done telling me how much of a shit he is.”
“Yep.”
“And you’re still going to meet him for coffee.”
“We’re just going to talk. No big deal.”
“He keeps you hanging on to that noose, doesn’t he?”
“I’m not going to hook up with him.”
“Bet you will.”
“I’m over him. I moved on.”
“If that were true, you would have left his text unanswered.”
“I don’t hate the kid. We just can’t be together.”
“Why?”
“The list is huge: He parties too much, doesn’t treat me right, isn’t financially responsible, and so on.”
“I bet the sex was good.”
“Legendary.”
“Ha! You’re hooked.”
“I am not. I can easily find another skilled lover.”
“Have I shown you my lick-the-tip-of-my-nose trick yet?”
“…”
“Fine. Go do what you need to do, feel guilty about it, and I’ll be here waiting to help you heal.”
“Aw.”

Maybe it came with age, but I don’t find myself addicted to much. I rarely miss my exes. Instead, I regret opportunities lost. Regrets fades quickly as I know Ms. Next is somewhere nearby, armed with smiling eyes, sugar kisses, and stemware.

The best advice I can give you, ladies, is if you’re addicted to a man you know isn’t good for you, find a way to get over him before you get hurt (again). That doesn’t mean you should settle for a convenient fellow who won’t hurt or stimulate you. Numb is dumb. Figure out what qualities your addictive man has that haunt you. Look for those in another man.

Cold turkey is an option you should consider. Lose his number. Delete his texts and emails without reading them. If he’s where you go, leave. Do these until the temptation wanes.

Don’t get a puppy. Don’t get another job. Don’t binge at Nordstrom. Don’t overdo the yoga.

Avoid the one who addicts you and seek the one who fits comfortably in your heart, mind, and conscience.