• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

The answer is simple. Nine years.

Now, I see a lot of heads not nodding at that. Probably you’re thinking nine years is overdoing it, especially if you broke up for the first time at one and half years and then broke up again at five years and then, even though you were living in different cities thousands of miles apart, you somehow forced yourselves together again for another four years of difficult unpleasantness. Many people would say three years of general unease is enough, that it’s time to “move on.” No. You’re wrong. You’re wrong and you’re pathetic. Nine years, you bitches. Nine fucking years. Who’s laughing in the back? That was a cough? I fucking hope so, because goddamnit I am speaking from some hard-won experience here and you’d better respect that shit.

Here, my friends, is the only path to a “healthy breakup.” Though before I proceed, I would like to remind everyone that this seminar is 100 percent nonrefundable.

Year 1

This is the year of “The Crush.” Excitement, energy, warmth, and hope infuse every aspect of the relationship, making the possibilities seem limitless, rosy, and un-put-downable. Not much to say beyond that.

Year 2

Some afterglow remains. You begin to perceive shortcomings in your partner’s psyche, which will severely limit your ability to grow as a couple. You get pissed. You argue. Roses make things better. You start to notice how good food tastes, how interesting books are, how marvelously distracting distractions can be. Men might rediscover masturbation and think, “Hey, I’m a pretty good masturbator!” Your relationship is tumultuous, but in a classic pop song sense—this is pretty fun, actually, you sort of feel like a tortured artist, except you’re not creating art. Nor will you.

Year 3

Your friends tell you to get out. Her friends tell her to get out. You relearn each other’s emotional limitations and psychological shortcomings on a daily basis. An hourly basis. You consider therapy. This is good. This is the beginning of a choice growing inside of you. But you are still five years away from therapy! So slow down! The drama of the relationship is tarnishing, which makes you suspect that it is not actually made of gold, but brass. Here is what you will find out: It’s not even brass. Your relationship is made of mold, what you are seeing as tarnish is actually just more mold breaking down and feeding on itself. Fuckin’ mold, dude [uncomfortable coughs from the back of the room].

Year 4

A pretty good year. Some ups and downs in the relationship. Mostly downs, though. Even the ups are a bit downish. You are using this year to see if you can make your partner’s shortcomings work to your advantage. Good for you. You will fail. People around you are “clamming up.” They tolerate your relationship like they tolerate the clanking sound in a car engine. After a while it’s just there, no reason to acknowledge it. You go on a trip with friends, without your partner. You have a real good time.

Year 5

Your mother tells you to get out. You begin to consider divorce, but then realize you aren’t married yet. You think, well, maybe we should get married and with that commitment we can finally relax and let go of the “fantasy” of a happy relationship but find happiness in reality and a promise of undying okayness. And if that doesn’t work, then the divorce thingy is a legit option. You are also entering into the arena of long-term relationshippery. You are sort of proud of this—good, go with that, you’re going to need every bit of momentum you can get to make it through FOUR MORE FUCKING YEARS.

Year 6

You are going strong, avoiding each other, not asking too much from the relationship. Many of you might think this is the time to move into therapy, to actually confront the many issues that make day-to-day life unpleasant and long-term plans unthinkable. Too soon! This bad relationship needs to run its course, and it is a marathon. If therapy tells you to leave now you will be prematurely abandoning the race—in its final