Posts Tagged ‘heartbreak’
by hannah
August 22nd, 2007
Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Winter Season (Chapter 2)
CHAPTER 2: BREAKING UP WITH BAD HABITS.
I’m on my couch, flipping through a “chick mag,” eating Brazilian Acai Berry Sorbet Häagen-Dazs. I’m reading an article about ten things not to do after your boyfriend dumps you. It’s about what so many seriously co-dependent, emotionally unstable women digress to whenever a relationship goes sour: They start eating dessert all day; or drinking their favorite cocktail all night; or having pointless sex with pointless men; or running up credit cards with irrational wardrobe purchases; or chain-smoking; or incessantly calling their ex-boyfriends to try to work things out. Things I would never do.
I scoop a spoonful of sorbet out of the pint in my hand.
Thank god I have no bad habits, I think, biting at the hangnail on my pinky finger. It starts to bleed. Okay, none that are really bad. Unless I’m under the influence of pissed off. Or totally depressed. Or sometimes bored. And definitely if I’m at some pretentious and superfluous Hollywood party. But seriously-I am in total control of my environment. I shake an aspirin out of the bottle sitting on my coffee table.
by hannah
August 21st, 2007
Sex, Life, & Hannah::Volume 1, Winter Season (Chapter 1)
CHAPTER 1: NEW YEAR’S EX.
I am going to seduce my boyfriend.
We’re supposed to go to this glossy New Year’s Eve Party at the Beverly Hills hotel my boyfriend manages. He’s supposed to pick me up at seven. It’s six twenty-three. I’m not planning on getting dressed. I lift my vodka cocktail off the bathroom counter and take a sip.
Tensions have been running high in our relationship. This is nothing new. After five and a half years together, no more than five months have ever gone by without some kind of drama, incident, or break-up. But we are going to make it. We’ve been together way too long to not make it. I fidget with my garter belt, trying to figure out what’s supposed to sit left, right, and center.
by hannah
October 6th, 2003
I’ve decided to call my new single life my mourning period. Oh yeah, that’s how excited I am about my new single life.
You know I totally get why things didn’t work out with Mr. Smyth, but it still sucks. Or maybe I was right last week when I concluded that perhaps I just suck at being single. Or maybe the real problem is that this time I don’t have someone like Ben to keep me distracted.
Why is it that for some reason if you have a hot piece of ass to distract you, all of a sudden the trauma of breaking up with someone miraculously disappears?
Where oh where is Dr. Bod when I need him, and why don’t I have a business trip to New York planned anytime soon?
