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Dear Breakup Girl,

Why does a breakup hurt as much at 43 as it did at 23? Isn't this something we should be able to handle better as we mature? I enjoy feeling young again, but this is going a little too far. This is like standing by my locker and watching my former hunk walk by, hand in hand with his new cheerleader. In short, it sucks. Will it ever get any easier?

--Maturely Heartbroken

Dear Maturely Heartbroken,

You know, you can feel high-school horrendous about something and handle it like the cool guidance counselor. I mean, ideally, you no longer break up with someone via third party nor rip paint off your walls with all that Scotch tape, so that's a step right there. Still, it makes sense that those yearbook candids are the images we channel: they're indelible school-colorful emotional abstractions of now-tedious concepts such as, "We have reached the inevitable conclusion that we lack mutual compatibility..." And thank goodness. So. Note that yes, oh, boy, it sucks, but you totally survived the last howevermany cheerleader/locker run-ins. And yes, the same tricks still work: (temporary) maximum wallowing with bonbons, taking the ex-free detour to the library, chilling with the goils, Plus, remember the flipside of this lunch money: you also still get to have that giddy note-passing, phone-cord-twirly, outfits-tossed-on-floor feeling when the next hunk stops by your locker.

Love,
Breakup Girl

 
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