Better off without you

It’s Tuesday and that means that I’m linking up with my pal Jen at My Skewed View (formerly Break the Parenting Mold) for Twisted Mixed Tape Tuesday.  Her subject this week has to do with relationships – specifically getting dumped and wanting to tell the dumper that he’d be so much better off had he’d stayed with me.

Here’s a really embarrassing fact.  With the exception of Gerry (I call him Gerry here because that’s his name) in high-school who dumped me two weeks before prom so he could spend his money on pot and a skanky freshman named Melissa rather than on me and my senior year prom, I have usually been the dumper.  That probably says a lot about my psyche and the men I chose in the past and maybe I should have had a better attitude than “whatever, you’re ugly and there are more of you elsewhere” when I was younger.  Luckily, sometime during the past 25 years of dating and marriage, I figured it out and found Robert.  Who can be awesome.  His song today is Nina Simone’s I Put a Spell on You (because he’s mine) (and no, I did not put a spell on him but only because I don’t know how and had I tried, I’d have been sure to screw it up and given myself a third boob or something).

Anyway, without admitting what a complete asshole I have been in the past by saying something cold-sounding like my exes already knew they’d be better off with me and that’s why they didn’t dump me first, I will share a little story with you.  From high school.  Also it should be mentioned that I was never mean about dumping.  Remember, I even sent one ex Garth Brook Lyrics to make him feel better and never sent anybody the lyrics to The Byrds’ I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better (when you’re gone), so there’s that.

While I didn’t have a long “ooh I love you” relationship until the very end of high school, my friend Linda (whose name is not Linda) did.  The boy was Jeff.  And they were in lurrrvvvee.  And then he dumped her and she was devastated in a way that I wouldn’t understand until, well, later, I guess.  Anyway.  Her devastation over their breakup meant that I spent an endless amount of hours on her bedroom floor with her drinking diet coke or wine coolers -when we could get them – helping her make Jeff mixed tapes of all their special songs.  Because you know, him hearing the song they first made out to was going to make him want her back.  He would feel grateful that she reminded him how much he loved her and thankful that she hand delivered it to his mailbox at 3:00am.  On a school night.  She was a little obsessive.  I was the semi-supportive best friend.

I can’t believe I remember two of the songs she included.  Probably because she told me why they were special 487 times every single day for the month that it took to convince her that he wasn’t coming back.  She included Foxy Lady by Jimi Hendrix (OMG I haven’t heard that song in years).  I guess there was one time when they were all high and post-coital and whatever he sang it to her.  I know, it moves me too. Another was Thank You by Led Zeppelin because it was pretty much a law that every relationship in the history of time had that as part of “this song is US, baby.”  While I don’t remember what else she included, part of the reason I went with this story was to show just how cheesy young desperate love can be.

In addition to making him six or seven mixed tapes of their unique special songs, she made him a photo puzzle.  For real.  Remember, this was in the 80’s so by making him a photo puzzle, I mean she glued a photo to cardboard and cut puzzle pieces.

Linda:  “I made him a puzzle using his favorite photo of the two of us.”

Me:  “A puzzle?  WTF?  Don’t you think the mixed tapes were enough?  I mean, you haven’t heard from him, right?”

Linda:  “No. Definitely not enough. He loves this picture and you haven’t heard the best part.”

Me: “Oh.  What’s the best part?”

Linda:  “I’m leaving a piece of the puzzle out.”

Me:  “Huh?”

Linda: “Well listen – this is really good.  I’m leaving a piece of the puzzle out and glued a note to the bottom telling him that he holds the piece to the missing peace.  The p-i-e-c-e to the missing p-e-a-c-e (spelling it out for me).  You know, like our relationship was love and peace and stuff and he holds the piece to making peace by getting back together.”

Me:  “Um, right but aren’t you the one who is holding the piece if you give him the whole puzzle without one piece?”

Linda: “I knew you’d never understand.  It’s because you’ve never been in love.”

Me: “I think I understand but you are the one with the missing piece, not him.”

Linda: “See you’re missing the point.  The point is that he holds the piece – like a key – he is the one that can make peace again by realizing that he still loves me.  I know he does because I saw him looking at me after chemistry today.”

Me: “You saw him today?”

Linda:  “Maybe you don’t know what I mean by piece and peace. You know he has that peace symbol necklace?”

Me:  “I think I understand I’m just saying he might think it’s weird.  Plus, you actually have the missing p-i-e-c-e, not him.”

(silence)

Me: “Hello? You know what I mean?”

(dial tone)

I’m pretty sure that Linda dumped me as a friend because of this conversation.  I never got around to making her a mixed tape.

Wanna link up with us?  Enter your post below and happy Tuesday!