Everything I Learned About Relationships I Know From TV

Back to my favorite source of relationship wisdom, SEX AND THE CITY.

I was writing yesterday and watching episodes from Season Two (a season I don't visit very often) in between the bursts of creative imagination. Charlotte said something that was really sad if it's true:

"It takes half the amount of time you were in a relationship to get over it."

Does that mean that I'll be ready to move on on May 1st, 2013? That is depressing.

I feel like I'm in the longest labor of my life. I'm getting ready to give birth to the new me and I'm constantly having to remind myself to breathe through the pain. As the now 12 (thank you) followers of this blog know, I am in whatever numbered step in my recovery of getting over my ex in which you think about them all of the time.

Here are the shameful things I've done that I'm only admitting to my small circle of followers (thank God I'm not more popular):

Last Friday, my best friend and I walked by our old place after having dinner in the neighborhood. She offered to throw her leftovers at the front door. That's why I love her. She only didn't do it because even though we've been friends since I was 11, I didn't want us to act like we were. I also refused her offer to paper his house.

I drove by earlier that week when I was in the neighborhood and noticed his car in the drive way at 6 PM, which for his business is during business hours.

I've been having these dreams where we're back together. He calls me "dear." He used to call me dear all of the time.

He's often one of my first thoughts when I wake up in the morning.

I tell myself that I just need to breathe through it. It's part of the process. I'm romanticizing things. I thought that when I walked out the door that I wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit. When I was younger and I went through breakups, it was awful. I would call the guy or sometimes get back together with him. It tore me apart.

Thankfully now that I'm older, I don't have the same issue. I haven't called him. I haven't really gotten to the point where I've wanted to. I'm at least mature enough to realize that would be a bad move. But I'm about to meet a friend for a drink at our old neighborhood restaurant. I look good. But I'm concern that it's starting to mean too much to me that I look good in case I run into him.

Carrie kept seeing guys that she thought were Big, right after their first big breakup. And she cared way too much. I hope I'm not like Carrie. At least in this case.