by Liz Magee
|Breakups happen even in the best of cities –credit|
People break-up. It happens. It happens everywhere, all the time. Healing the wound of a broken heart in the Big Apple presents its own set of challenges and obstacles unlike anywhere else. I have firsthand experience of this, so I compiled a list of the various hurdles I encountered while picking up the pieces.
1. The constant audience.
There are a lot of people in this city. In Manhattan, moments when I find myself completely alone, without a single person in sight are rare, special, sacred moments. Cost of living ain’t exactly cheap, so many of us have roommates. I had the misfortune of living with a couple while the wound of my split was still quite fresh. Although a lovely and respectful couple, I couldn’t t help but be frustrated when I came home to them snuggling on the couch, catching up on Breaking Bad when I had plans to re-watch an episode of Sex and the City.
Not only do I long for privacy, but the visual of the two of them serves as a casually cruel reminder of what I no longer have. He’s no longer by my side, resting his hand on my lap like that.
|I had to catch up on Breaking Bad solo. Next stop: Homeland –credit|
2. No car.
So, where am I supposed to howl along to Adele’s “Someone Like You”? The shower? Not an option; nobody wants to be that roommate. Instead, I’m forced to hold it in when it comes up on a shuffle during my morning commute. The first few days post-split I was wearing sunglasses at all times. I never know what will trigger the waterworks to flow and don’t want to call any further attention to myself while riding NYC public transit. The creepy looks from the older businessmen and daunting glares from that homeless woman are really all I can handle.
3. No sympathy. Comedic actor Anders Holm, one of the three stooges featured in the silly phenomenon that is Workaholics, recently tweeted:
“New York: where girls walk down the street crying and nobody cares. #saw2ofthemtoday #idontcareeither”
This is a prime example of “it’s so funny because it’s true.” Every New Yorker has something to do, somewhere to be, and getting there is always way more important than whatever that person on the street is crying about. Having been this sad, tearful girl myself, I’ll admit, it goes both ways. I’m a New Yorker too, you know, so I would be annoyed and slightly suspicious should anyone stop and ask “What’s wrong?” Mind your own business folks, nothing to see here.
|You’ve got a point there, Ders–credit|
4. Couples. Everywhere.
They’re right in front of you. They’re taking up so much space that it’s impossible to go around them without running into oncoming traffic. They’re walking so slowly and the hand-holding doesn’t help. Unlike everyone else in this city, they’re not in a hurry. They’re just happy to be in each other’s company. Being behind this couple is the worst place to be in the entire world, particularly if healing from a break-up and/or in Times Square.
|Maybe I should take the picture for you so you’ll keep walking.––credit|
5. Starbucks: or how expensive this city is.
In the months that followed my break-up, I was constantly rewarding myself for merely existing. Something would catch my eye in the window of a cupcake shop or a good friend would offer to listen to me b*tch about my ex over bottomless brunch. In both situations, I would take a minute to contemplate, but would ultimately decide that, despite the state of my bank account, I deserve it. This would also happen every time I would pass a Starbucks. Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappuccinos? We’re talking 3-4 a week. At least.
|I deserve this. — photo courtesy of Starbucks|
6. How small the city actually is.
A city this big, with so many people! There’s no way I’ll run into his friends/distant cousin/him! Oh, but I will. All the time.
7. The memories attached.
It takes some time before I return to that diner where we had our first date. Those posters are a constant reminder – when he took me to see that show I was dying to see.
Then there’s that spot in Central Park where he put his arm around me when I least expected it. Eventually, these sights won’t feel like salt on the wound. Instead, I’ll smile at the memory of the fun we had. One great thing about New York City is that there are so many other diners, other shows, and other spots in Central Park to share with somebody new.
|Central Park is big enough for me, my new dates, and all my exes.–-credit|