After weeks of isolation and social distancing, most people probably feel like they’re on an emotional rollercoaster. Fear, anger, boredom, optimism and dark humor swap faster than you can say “Covid-19.” But there’s nothing wrong with living out your entire range of emotions during this time – there’s only one thing that should be avoided at all costs: heartbreak. Our author knows why…
Obviously, no one wants to be lovesick, no one’s ever volunteered for a broken heart. Aside from those teenage years, when you delighted in the dramatic and lay on your bed with your best friend, listening to Bon Jovi and drinking cheap vodka. Feeling like you were about to die because of some now easily-forgotten guy wasn’t so bad back then.
As an adult woman in her late thirties, I am no longer a fan of movie-like heartache scenes in which I’m lucky enough to play the leading role. After all, I am not Bridget Jones, even though I do have some similarities to her. There have been a lot of dramas, but a happy ending hasn’t shown up yet, which means in the meantime I have to struggle with some heartbreaks. Although it’s mostly harmless, a few times it was rather intense. But what can you do? Do you fly to Argentina just to put some distance between you and your ex? Or do you keep yourself so busy that there’s no time left to think about the past? You can go out to dinner with friends, visit the cinema or hit the clubs or even have a weekend away with your crew. Even just a visit to the spa can do wonders.
Yes, this would normally be my plan. However, it’s not that simple when you’re heartbroken in the current situation. Isolation. Social distancing. Restricted contact. And the next pub crawl feels just as far away as Argentina literally is. Honestly, being alone and heartbroken in your own four walls doesn’t exactly fall into the category of ideal treatment for healing heartbreak. Staying in bed for a weekend with chocolate ice cream and vodka and hiding from the world? That’s a great idea. But extending this for weeks? I can’t do that. Weight gain and liver damage are only part of the problem too. No, the heartache shifts and contorts into one of those sad-looking tigers that run up and down in their cage at the zoo all day long. To defeat these nasty thoughts, you’d have to be Buddha. Or at least Eckhart Tolle.
I simply can’t. In my defence, I must say it’s all very fresh. It still hurts, the wounds are still very much open. I have to force myself to stop listening to all those sweet voicemails he’s sent me in the last few weeks, the hearts and the photos. Because in my head there’s nothing much left to say after “sorry, I got cold feet.”
Okay, so I need a plan. An emergency corona, anti-romance plan. Step one: delete the chat history and his number from my phone. Step two: buy candy. Step three: set up phone dates with best friends, who can tell you how great you are and what an idiot he is, and who are always understanding when you just need to cry for a bit.
When the worst is over (I’m looking forward to it), my sleeves will be rolled up and “I’m still standing” by Elton John will play at maximum volume and all the energy I used up in suffering will be redirected into some great new project. Once it’s done, you can sit down with a nice glass of bubbly and be proud of yourself for surviving heartbreak during Corona.
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