Londoners Magazine

My apologies to anyone who reads my blog for not posting yesterday. There was a homicidal maniac between me and my computer for the majority of the day.

No, really.

My downstairs neighbour had his abusive boyfriend arrested Tuesday. Yesterday police escorted the crazy mofo (mother fucker, for those not wise to my New York slang) to his ex’s apartment to collect his belongings.

My neighbour came to my flat during this time and decided to take up smoking again. I, running low on smokes and milk for coffee, slipped out to buy provisions. During this time, the police, in all their wisdom, got bored and decided to leave!

Well, the crazy mofo spent the next several hours lurking in my hallways screaming how he was going to kill his boyfriend and anyone helping him.

So I decided to sit in a hot, humid park rather than risk life and limb. My milk curdled and I got a sunburn.

Looking at my milk and considering the reasons why I was sitting outside, was it any wonder I started to think of relationships turning sour?

I’m just slightly disgusted with our human condition. Why on earth do we get so bent out of shape when a relationship fizzles out? Why can’t we deal with it gracefully?

It’s a statistical fact that more than half of all marriages end. And God knows how many relationships that don’t include vows fail. Logically, the chances of a relationship lasting are pretty damn slim. So why do we convince ourselves that our relationships are different? And why do we act so surprised and hurt when we’re proved wrong?

Ok, I know I sound like the deepest, most bitter cynic - but I swear I’m not. I do think it’s possible for two people of similar temperaments, with similar interests and common goals to make a go of it and live “ happily ever after”. I just don’t think people honestly assess themselves or their mate in most cases. And that’s why break-ups happen.

I’ve been through numerous break-ups myself and I’ve realised one thing: the best thing to do when things end is to preserve as much of your dignity as possible.

Just consider this: although it might feel good to get hideously drunk and push the bitch your boyfriend is sleeping with down the stairs of CBGB’s and verbally emasculate the two-timing bastard in front of all his friends (not that I’m speaking from personal experience), you’ll feel dirty afterwards. Not to mention the fact that everyone will still tease you about it four years later.

Don’t do desperate or angry. Suck it up and act like an adult. If you’re the one ending things, do it as nicely and calmly as possible. If you’re the one getting ditched, wait until later to take your frustration out, or do what I do and forget about your frustration at the bar.

Above all things remember: the first impression might be the most important, but it’s the last impression that will haunt you.