the break up book

Everyone, well, people who read, have books that signify turning points in their lives. A book you read after your pet died that helped you see death is a part of life. A book for when you graduated high school that helped you grow up and see that your adult life only held as much potential as you were willing to put into it. A break up book for when you're heart is broken seemingly beyond repair.

My sister decided that the only book anyone would ever need for a break up book was The Zahir, by Paulo Coelho, because it's a book in which his wife unexpectedly leaves him and he learns quite a bit about himself on his journey to heal and find love again.

I've never read the book, but I read the first three chapters or so when David and I broke up; I could just tell it wasn't for me, not at that moment anyways. The writing was the only thing that kept me going. My God, if I could write like that man I'd have it made. Soon I'll read one of his works, but not now... now I am reading something else.

Call me cliche, just do it. I know what I am about to tell you will make you roll your eyes at me.

I'm ready; I don't care.

Last night I started reading a book that will be my break up book (sorry it came almost nine months after the break up... but I have been doing a lot of introspection and I probably wasn't ready to read it before now) and my new relationship book, all in one.

I know this because I've seen the movie...

Eat, Pray, Love

Are you done laughing yet? Can we move on?

 Great.

I loved the story, the idea of a woman who knew her life was messed up and took the necessary measures to fix it (sound familiar? I just wish I had been able to go to three foreign countries instead of the weekly therapy and meds rout) so this week when I saw it at the library on my way to check out I just nipped it up and walked out the door.

Because procrastination is my middle name, I didn't open it till last night... and 7 chapters in I knew I would finish.

Not because it's an easy read, because it is, but because the style is fantastic. It's so conversational and real, it's like talking to a friend with her little self interruptions (her use of parentheses makes my heart soar) and descriptions.And, it's funny. Laugh out loud funny. She describes her crazy like any other woman would: accepting but still loathing.

We're all nuts; after we've accepted this fact, dealing with it becomes so much easier.

Being able to relate to a book character with how her heart feels about her husband, how she fell in love with someone so fast (Kyle... again *cough cough*), and how no matter what she did that relationship wasn't going to heal her (only cause more harm and distress) is I think why this was more my book than The Zahir. That one is about being perplexed as to why you broke up, figuring it out, discovering yourself and how you can not make the same mistakes in your next relationship, and then seeing how those changes effected your new relationship for the better. That's not me.

I knew exactly what happened in mine and Davids relationship. I knew that he hated me for the exact same reasons I hated me... and that isn't exactly what happened in Eat, Pray, Love, but it's a lot closer because she hates herself and the needy (*ding*) warped (*ding ding*) person she had become from trying to please everyone else. She hates how she can't be alone (so many *dings* your ears bleed) and the idea of being alone is just as frightening as staying with the person you know is wrong for you.

She says, "The only thing more unthinkable than leaving was staying; the only thing more impossible than staying was leaving."

Before David and I broke up I was so unhappy, I was so unhappy it physically hurt... but I didn't know what to do. I couldn't leave him; he was the only thing in my life worth living for (so I thought), but I also couldn't stay with him, because if I stayed that meant I wasn't dealing with the shit pile I'd let my life become.

The depression sucked me dry of all reason.

I didn't do anything for fear of making a wrong decision, I didn't talk to anyone for fear of being reminded of exactly what I was hiding from, and, most importantly, I completely ignored how unhappy I was, because if I accepted that something was wrong, I would have to face it.

And isn't facing yourself much scarier than facing anyone else?

But I know this book will be it, it'll let me read about what I emotionally (since I physically can't eat gelato three times a day or go to Indonesia) went through this past nine months or so and then show me how to really love again.

Because at the end she finds that. Peace, love, and a guy to make it all seem worth it.