adult swim. the carousel. part one.

About a year ago, I was at the supermarket waiting to pay for my groceries and noticed the woman standing in front of me. It was hard not to. She was stunningly, jaw-droppingly beautiful and all she was buying was a single cucumber. I remember thinking, “Jesus, if she can’t find a man, I’m doomed.”

I thought of her as I made my way through the produce section the day after Thanksgiving. Normally, I have a very platonic relationship with fruits and vegetables but the first notes of a bye-bye ballad had become too loud to ignore and as I came to the realization that Sam and I were probably through, I thought of the beautiful woman and totally got it. Too distraught to flirt with the cucumbers, I headed toward the more G-rated cereal aisle.

Have you ever wanted to do something you didn’t want to do? That was me and, as I coasted down the aisles looking at everything and nothing in particular, I tried to talk myself into and out of the decision I knew I had to make. I wanted to be unapologetic about what I wanted but that would mean giving up Sam. I wanted to be proud of myself for refusing to settle but I didn’t want to lose someone who made me laugh as hard as he does. I wanted to know that I had learned a thing or two about myself but I would miss the way he looked at me. I wanted to be brave enough to trust that the life I want is possible but I didn’t want to start dating inanimate objects. Again.

Historically, when I break up with someone, I can see the end long before it’s on the horizon. By the time I start to think, “I want the fuck out of this and can’t stand another second,” I’ve already started packing. It’s dramatic, yes, but it’s clear. Things with Sam and I were a bit muddier. We liked each other a lot, that was a lock, but other lines curved and, most of the time, I didn’t know where we stood.

Half-way down the frozen section, I realized that knowing where I stand has become pretty important to me and I knew that I had made a decision. Grateful as hell to already be in a supermarket (a place I would’ve careened towards if I had been elsewhere) I stalked the aisles like a great white hunter. I needed fish sticks and a ham sandwich and Corn Pops and Haagen-Dazs and yes, definitely the Raisinets and yes, definitely the spare ribs. It was batten down the hatches time and I wanted to be prepared for the flood of grief.

After hauling eleventy-seven bags of groceries into the kitchen, I went about break-up proofing the house and the rest of my life:

1. I took the ticket stubs from The Social Network that I used as a bookmark and threw them away.

2. I put on Laura Fabian’s I Will Love Again and cranked up the volume.

3. I called all of my friends and family and told them that I was breaking up with Sam and while I didn’t want them to say anything nasty about him, I did want them to know that I was sending through an approved statement, via e-mail, and they were to stick to the script. “This is all I want to hear from you people,” I said. “Don’t get fancy with it.” The e-mail read:

“Alex, you are very smart and talented and beautiful and impossibly thin and you are also very brave and interesting and it is shocking that you are not in a relationship. Can I give you some money just to show my utter appreciation for, and confidence in, your remarkable abilities? I’m just going to go ahead and leave it blank and you fill in the amount. Again, this is all very confusing because you are positively extraordinary. I’m speechless. Hope the money helps.”

4. I went to Redbox and rented Eat, Pray, Love (I know, I know) and cleaned the 99 cent store out of Kleenex.

5. I unfolded a large map of Los Angeles and started Xing out routes and setting up blockades that would make driving down certain streets impossible. As if maneuvering troops into battle or preparing the city for a marathon, I re-mapped how I would get from point A to point B while avoiding the following:

a.) The street he lives on (a street, btw, I have always used to get from the east side to the west and back again – fuck.)

b.) The street where "The Restaurant" is (the same restaurant I have been going to for 15 years but after one dinner suddenly became “ours.”)

c.) The movie theater where we went on our first date and that I could, obviously, never look at again, even though it's on Sunset Blvd which is a, kind of, important street if you want to... I don’t know... go somewhere.

d.) Tacos Delta, where I first fell for him and which is located on the very corner I turn to go to and from my house. I researched getting airlifted in and out of my neighborhood but it’s pretty expensive. I ordered horse blinders instead.

6. Because Sam and I had spent a memorable and totally fantastic night with my sister, I called her to say that while I had loved her very much over our 40 years together, I would not be able to see her again. “Too many memories,” I said. We wished each other well and promised to write.

7. I called AT&T:

Me: Yes, hello, I need to shut off my SMS.
Them: I will be happy to do that, ma’am. Can I ask why you’ve decided to turn off your texting capabilities?
Me: Because of Sam.
Them: Pardon me?
Me: Sam was a man I was dating and he used to text me all the time but he doesn’t anymore cause we broke up and now every time I get a text I jump through my skin.
Them: Because you think it’s him?
Me: That’s right.
Them: Well, I’m sorry to hear we will be losing your business but on a personal note, I can tell you that you are my second call today about this very thing.
Me: Really?
Them: Poor thing, she was crying pretty hard. But you sound okay so maybe that’s a good sign.
Me: Maybe. So, she had the same story?
Them: Yes, she said her boyfriend used to text her everyday after history class but stopped and she, well, like I said, she was crying pretty hard.
Me: History class? I probably don’t want to hear the answer but how old was she?
Them: 14.
Me: Oh Lord. I am ridiculous. Never mind.
Them: So, you want to keep your texting capabilities?
Me: Yes. I’d also like to keep my dignity, such as it is, so I can’t be acting like a teenager. Sorry to have bothered you.
Them: No bother at all. Thank you for choosing AT&T and you have a good day.
Me: Please don’t send me a confirmation text.
Them: (Laughing) I won’t. Have a nice day.

8. For my birthday, Sam had gotten me a very nice bottle of tequila. A bottle we shared whenever we were together and a bottle that had to go. I didn’t want to toss it (cause I knew it would make a great vase one day and, also, it still had tequila in it and I'm not a savage) so I put it in the gardening shed.

9. I called British Airways to find out how much it would cost to walk along the moors.

Heartbreak central officially opened for business, I went into the kitchen to Henry the 8th my food but then something happened. While reading the directions on a box of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese (I know, I know) I decided to go for a run instead. For reals, a run. It was confusing and I ran to the bathroom mirror to confirm that I was still me cause choosing a workout over sad lady food is very, very new.

It was still me but, at the same time, something was different and the next thing I knew I was warming up at the park with my earbuds blasting 70’s arena rock and that’s when I saw the carousel.

To be continued…