Already Bored

Before I begin, I feel like I need to share with you all some news that I received mere hours ago that shook me to my very core: Cristiano Ronaldo is now a father. He tweeted about it today. I guess that he got some woman pregnant and he is going to raise the lucky kid. That should totally be my novel for next year.

So today, Sadie finally goes out for the first time to meet guys since her and Brett broke up. It does not go well. A hilarious outfit was described. But I thought that I would share this, since it's better. I'm not feeling very funny today, I got in a fight with a co-worker and am still kind of fuming. Also, Spain have advanced to the semi-finals against Germany. Hurray!


The thing with getting over someone that you once loved is that no one really knows how to do it. We all know what we shouldn’t do, which, sadly enough, are the very things that come most naturally. Without Sadie’s friends, she probably would have done every single post-break-up faux pas: calling him, trying to get back together, obsessing over the past and trying to figure out “where it went wrong”—a pointless exercise if there ever was one, since in this case, everything went wrong. To say that Sadie leaned on her friends would be generous; they carried her.

Julia, who had an odd penchant for wearing a hideous housecoat that was pink with frogs on it, listened every time Sadie felt the need to re-dissect the relationship. Much like Cosmopolitan’s “TEN WILD WAYS TO PLEASE YOUR MAN” that seem to come out every month, there are only so many variations of the same thing. At least Sadie didn’t suggest to Julia that she “sprinkle a little pepper under his nose right before he climaxes. Sneezing can feel similar to an orgasm and amplify the feel-good effects” like Cindy, 32. Thinking about your past relationship, and continuing to talk about it, can feel like you’re keeping it alive. It’s hard to give up. But ultimately, would you consider Bill Murray alive in “Groundhog Day”? Living the same thing over and over again may seem worthwhile at first, but eventually, there is nothing left to say. Events from the past don’t change; analyzing and re-analyzing doesn’t make things in the present any better. Sucking memories dry of any meaning or importance they once had empties you, instead of filling you up in the way that you think that it will. But despite the futility of the exercise, Sadie took to it with all of the fervour usually reserved for a physiotherapist to a pile of jock straps.

Fiona, her roommate from Chicago, was never really much of a listener; she was a talker. Everything that had happened to Sadie had probably once happened to Fiona, and she would then go on to describe it. If you need any advice, or even if you don’t, Fiona is your gal. But Fiona is smart and her input is invaluable; she wouldn’t let Sadie remember things the way that Sadie wanted to remember them. Fiona doesn’t see the world through Sadie’s rose-coloured glasses; she sees the world through her own glasses. Keeping Sadie in the real world was the best thing that she could have done for her.

We need both listeners and talkers in our lives: listeners seem to take on some of your burden, while talkers can give you the outside perspective that could be lost when all that of those thoughts in your head seem to do is swirl around endlessly until they are stale, like a fart in a jar. Fiona and Julia’s patience was endless, and without it, Sadie couldn’t envision how she could have gotten through this period that seemed to have lasted much longer than it should have.

Over time, Sadie began to regard Brett as a thief; it felt as if he had stolen too much of her. Every place that they had gone served as a reminder of him, even if it was somewhere that she had known long before him and would know it for long after. Even her own apartment didn’t feel like it was hers anymore; suddenly, she could remember everything that had ever happened there, and it was haunting her. Brett became a ghost that appeared far too often, and unlike Casper, he was not a friendly ghost. He claimed things for his own that he had no business to. Things that she had loved before, like watching and playing football, watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and going to her favourite sports bar, Brett seemed to have gotten in the break-up. Everyone tells you to be strong, to take back what’s yours and to not let him do this to you! It’s useless. You’re not yourself, you’re not strong anymore, and they will continue to take from you because you are just too tired to stop them.

Life just doesn’t feel the same; you seem to lose the ability to enjoy anything. For the first time in her life, Sadie just wanted to be alone. Her smile had faded and become an awkward stretching of the face that was never genuine. Time spent with friends was more tiring, if anything. She cried a little harder when watching sad movies; she laughed a little less at everyone else’s jokes. Life seemed distant—just out of reach—and Sadie just didn’t have the strength to grab it and pull it back again. No, she was not fun to be around in this time, which made her even more distressed. Sadie never had very much pride—no one would have let her get away with that—but she had always prided herself on being fun.

Sadie was like this for a while, but can’t we just let her be? This book is about Sadie, and if we were to write about this time in her life, it wouldn’t be. Eventually, Sadie did move on. Let’s not dwell on exactly how long it took. It took time, support, and a lot of ice cream. Let’s applaud her for it, and move to the part of her journey where Sadie becomes Sadie again. It’s a lot more interesting, anyway.