Something About Armpits and the Proper Way to Break Up
I spent grades three to seven in the hairy armpit that some people refer to as the state of Iowa. I think I am going to start calling my armpits Iowa, actually. Iowa and Iowa, except not hairy unless it’s Movember.
From third grade until somewhere in seventh grade, I had a crazy crush on a boy named Clay. No, really. They name their kids Clay in some places, guys. I happened to think Clay was so dreamy it never occurred to me until now what a weird name Clay is. I am also pretty sure I never used the word dreamy but for some reason in the process of writing this story I became a 60 year old woman. Which also explains why I don’t remember much about Clay except that once my mom’s friend pointed out Clay’s “ears are so big.” And then while pointing at a picture of a boy named Eric who I WRONGFULLY referred to as either Itchy or Scratchy, said, “Why don’t you like that boy? He’s cute.”
Being that everyone in this school grew up together, Clay was always going out with Christy. I don’t know how you get tied down like that in third grade but there were a lot of things that didn’t make sense. Because, Iowa. Fast forward to fifth grade and somehow the only Asian chick in Hairy Armpit ended up “going out” with Clay. I am talking about me, by the way.
Before you get all weirded out about fifth graders dating let me explain something. Going out meant absolutely nothing. (Sort of like now.) I don’t remember even talking to or seeing Clay during the two days we were going out. After those two days, Dumb Friend Chad approached the lunch table and asked if I minded if Clay broke up with me. So I said no. I mean for God’s sake, I didn’t even know if Clay was alive or in school at the time. He certainly wasn’t eating lunch with me and I was too busy with my girls discussing birds or cheese sandwiches or maybe how I was probably going to kick everyone’s asses in the spelling bee.
But even though I had no clue what going out meant or breaking up, I realized a few days or weeks later that I had been dumped. I don’t think it’s proper form anywhere to send your dumb friend to a lunch table to do it and I wondered until seventh grade why Clay had broken up with me – even though looking back it was clear he had ginormous ears in which I sincerely hope his tiny head grew into. The good news is, I just realized from now on I should name one armpit Iowa and the other Clay instead of just Iowa and Iowa because it makes more sense.
I only thought of this because a friend (I don’t really know him but we’re circled on Google+) posted that his girlfriend had broken up with him via text. I thought it was horrid but I started thinking of shitty ways relationships have ended. I remembered a time when I believed it was a perfectly legit way to break up with someone. To be clear, I had already broken up with this person multiple times, so finally, I just decided I wasn’t going to argue about it and sent the text. This text of course unleashed a shit shower of texts in shouty caps (which was not easy in the days of T9) which said things like:
I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BROKE UP WITH ME VIA TEXT!
YOU AWFUL AWFUL NO GOOD TERRIBLE BIATCH.
TELL ME WHY. TELL ME WHY AGAIN.
YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU CAN GO TO HELL.
AS A MATTER OF FACT, JESUS IS PUTTING ON HIS JESUS BOOTS RIGHT NOW SO HE CAN KICK YOUR MEAN ASS STRAIGHT TO HELL. (I may have made this one up just now.)
And I was like, look. I’ve been breaking up with you for
three six months. I don’t think this counts as being rude and frankly, this feels like a trap to make me see you again for another one last time for at least the tenth time, to flop around frantically in the arguing and drama trap for hours I don’t really have. I still kind of think it was the right thing to do but people have told me it’s never, never, ever okay to break up via text. I’m not talking about ending marriages here, but sometimes you just don’t want to deal with the drama. Not excusing my friend’s girlfriend because it sounded like it was a serious relationship where they were discussing marriage and stuff and I am a bit concerned that Jesus may for real be putting on his Jesus boots for her.
I don’t know if texting or sending your dumb friend to break up is right or wrong. I do know that no one enjoys break ups unless you are just a sick bastard.
And if you are a sick bastard, I will show you a sick bastard. In the end it’s more about getting run over by the car and less about the type of car that ran you over. (I know. Getting so good at analogies.)
Is there really a good way to break up with someone? And why do we always feel like we need some kind of explanation?
What is the worst way a relationship has ended for you?
Also, if you were to name your armpits –