“If you don’t know what to do, start with an onion. Saute it up and see what happens” he said holding my hand as we discussed cooking for one which I hoped one day would become cooking for two.
This morning I took what was left of my onion and threw it in the trash. Hard. Fastball force as it pulled the bag down and thumped on the bottom of the garbage. “Fuck it.” I would like to say it had an exclamation point at the end but it was truthfully more of a period, a resignation, all hope lost.
Thus ends the love I thought, like most of us experience, would be “the one.” There’s a remarkable number of people worldwide who experience such heart break, as in 100%. People fail at love at least once, if not, every.single.time. Yet, it is still the stuff of songs, music, movies and poetry. Love is a multi billion dollar business and no matter how it ends it’s never really refundable. We are just that much changed when we give our tender heart away only to get it back dinged up and frayed at the edges.
That’s why there are dozens of websites and blogs dedicated to fantasies about seeing a spouse or partner, ex or current, die. Yea, I said that, actually die. Often times married people dream their spouse will croak so they can avoid the shame and hassle of divorce and they talk about it on these sites in very frank terms. I have a writer friend who is so bubbly and adorable you’d never guess she wrote an entire book about the ways she wanted to see her husband go from six feet tall to six feet below her pretty, little shoes.
In my excitement to discover if I’m ill for wanting to hate the onion guy I read where a UC Berkeley study concluded this kind of thinking, dreaming of seeing a partner or former partner die, is good because it releases tension, so long as no one actually dies.
I can’t quite go there but I’m not at the breezy, have a nice life stage either. If I found out he was pining away or briefly miserable, it’s likely that a smile would cross my face.
That’s how much romantic intentions turn from “I do” to ‘I do kind of wish you’d die–not in a super painful way, but just a kind of fading until I never hear you chewing breakfast again kind of way.’
My recent disaster didn’t even get to chewing breakfast. It went from, “I love everything about him” to “Yea. I don’t know. I haven’t really heard from him” to changing the subject if I’m asked what happened. Damn you onion guy–I’ll never understand!
I’m going to be excited to have enough energy to hate him. I had a friend once tell me over some other romantic misadventure, “You know you’re getting better when you hate him for rubbing your face in the dirt and stepping on you on the way to his car.” I can’t wait to think, “What a prick bastard!” and mean it or better yet, think nothing at all. I did manage to tell him I threw my onion in the garbage. I felt good about the metaphor. When you’ve got nothing else there’s always a metaphor, a nicely penned poison.
So I would like to start this Angry Onion idea where you contribute your stories of bitterness, heart break, venting and release about your relationship, partner or former lovers. It’s not a man or woman thing–it’s a third problem–the rotten corpse of a relationship as it dies and stinks up every other part of your otherwise decent and well planned life.
If you go back to him, her or they–there’s no shame in it. We’re here for the story, the laugh, the knowing we aren’t alone even if we’re single or wishing we were.
Now, let me be absolutely clear, if you have the compulsion to say anything close to,’ hang in there’ or ‘love will find you’ or ‘put yourself out there’ or’ don’t be bitter’, then you do not belong with the Angry Onion. This is about turning heart break into high art. Nothing more. It should be fun and not expressly evil, a little evil is okay but if you send me a list of violent acts and none of them make me laugh–it’s not getting in.
Okay angry lovers scorned–get ready, set, write!