Of course it’s very easy to wander around aimlessly while filling up and then bursting at the brim with a fresh brand of bitterness. It’s easy to be angry, in that typically trite way. Touting anti-romantic aphorisms and reveling in post-romantic waste.
But the easy way out is generally pock marked with cowardice, and in an effort to keep up appearances, it became less of an option and more of a state of mind to avoid at all costs. So she went to work on avoiding all the annoying trappings of being newly single. None of this out late at bars drinking too much and getting overly emotional after last call and the bright lights are back on. None of this hanging out with groups of friends and finding a way to always steer the conversation back to her recent break up. None of this lying in bed staring at the walls while Netflix is on but all she can see is this back of the brain movie reel of all the fading memories and all the promises that were not kept.
She gave herself a week to be annoying about her break up. She knew that after a week, her friends were going to get tired of her. Less the fresh out of a break up, “Oh, we missed you! You’ve been spending so much time with your boo! And now you’re back to party with us, that’s so great!” Instead the, “Oh, god, here she is, little miss ‘I drink too much’ and ‘I endanger myself’ and ‘I can’t stop talking about the ex.”
It required a battle plan. The first day after it happened, she listed out an extensive, newer version of her Fuck Bucket list. The thing about being fresh out of a break up is: she was back at zero. Being at zero generally put her in a panic and could lead to bouts of desperation and bad decisions. But with her new fuck bucket list, she gave herself a reasonable time line. The amount of time she should wait before fucking someone new, the seriousness or casualness of the new sexual situations she’d be getting into, a time line for how long she wanted them to last. Rotating names and the types of fucks she’d need for later, as well as the type of game she’d have to put on. Oh, she hasn’t lost her game, thank god.
It required a brave face and a intense dosage of forgetting. Kicking herself out from her stay in bed schedule that she had cultivated with the ex, but with the advent of Spring a bit more going out-ness seemed exactly in order. She bought some new dresses. Some new shoes. Went to the gym. Ate more salads. She devoted some time to her catharsis activities, and by absconding her more extreme but often more expected revenge tactics, she was able to prevent prolonging a bitter break up. A clean break. A quick break. It’s over. Moving on.