Getting By With A Little Help From My Friends

I nap. I rally a little. I clean my house. God only knows when the next variation of the man of my dreams is going to come knocking on my door.

I shower and make myself fabulous. If I am going to step out, I need to put my most appealing, inviting face forward. No one wants to approach a scowling, bitter old hag wearing a baggy cardigan and holey sweatpants.

I chat with Kate, who is in New York with her family for a show. She has told me the wrong time for Mass with the choir and wants to make sure I have the correct time. She thinks Jack is a saint to be going out with Charlotte and her weeping heartbroken sister. Most men wouldn't be caught dead.  I thank her for pointing out my appalling lack of judgement about men.  And then I tell her the whole sordid Scott story. So much BS to fill everyone in on. She tells me she'll spare me tha agony of repeating the story to Joy and Priscilla and bring them up to speed. She thinks I have not heard the last of Scott; that he'll be coming back around before the holidays.

She also tells me that she is hoping the hotel bar opens before her husband returns from Central Park with their boys. She needs a glass of wine, pronto. 

Not long after, I get a text from Joy. Mark my calendar. Girls dinner on the Sunday after the holiday.  Kate moves fast. But I am pleased. something else to look forward to.

I realize what is so painful, aside from the obvious having been dumped part.

I miss my life. I miss my life with Scott. We had fun. We traveled. We did things together. All of my routines and habits have been tied up in the care and feeding of this relationship and poof! It is up in smoke. I am struggling to rebuild - or rather, build anew. I am completely outside my own skin. It is as though my own life has suddenly become unfamiliar.

Charlotte and Jack arrive. We pour some Drama Queen Pinot Grigio and I give them a tour of the new kitchen and an intro to Gidget. And we head out.

The Pub is a neighborhood spot that is always brimming with locals and rocking with activity.  Charlotte of course knows everyone and is off to the races. I sit with Jack at the bar and ask him what he thinks.

He tells me he doesn't know enough about what happened to make a judgement call. A safe but truthful answer. I can not wrap my head around why anyone would choose to break up with someone by process of elimination.  I know Scott would not want to hurt me. I know he'd not be able to stand the sight of my tears, but truthfully, could he really be thinking that what he did would be less painful for me?  Or was it really all about him? 

Jack wonders out loud if I think Scott might be worried that when he lowered the boom, I'd turn into Estelle.

No. That can't be it, could it?  Sure I screach at the cable company and the iPhone idiots, but doesn't everyone? 

Could it really be that?  Seriously?  Is he a big chicken at heart? I might get mad and say something awful that I can't take back? So what? He'd be done with me in a matter of minutes. Asswipe.

We drink. We dine. We run into neighbors. The bar tender who used to wait on me and Scott looks confused when Jack and I order and he pays for it. The waitress who used to wait on me and Scott looks at the fourth chair at the table and asks if we are waiting for someone else to arrive. (Yes, George Clooney. If you see him, please send him over.)

I go home feeling loved by my family and lonely in my life. I climb into bed and have myself a little cry. Okay a good cry. A heaving, sobbing, messy, distorted face cry.

And by some miracle I get a message on Facebook.

My zany friend Ted, wondering about what is going on in my life. He senses trouble. Do I need a friend.

Yes, sir, right at this moment, I do.

And we chat back and forth for a time - me explaining what happened and my wretched feelings, and him telling me I am an amazing woman and whatever I need is mine. It isn't realistic, but it is nice to hear.

I am finally calm enough to go to sleep, though the notion of having to face another day alone is almost more than I can bear. But I will get by with a little help from my friends.