the stuff exchange

it is common knowledge that every break-up goes through stages before the split actually occurs. these steps are neither pleasant nor easy, with the primary ones being a) the downhill slope the relationship slides upon as the impending break-up looms in the distance, b) the rollercoaster of arguing, making up, and arguing more, the rapid-fire rounds of mean and hateful words, the hollow, sad feelings that follow, the anger that builds as the relationship declines into an unsalvageable mess and c) the break-up itself, which is an entity that embodies its own cycle of emotional warfare, separate from the steps leading up to the main event.

we all know this. after the first few failures in our puppy love teen years, we learn that this is just the normal phase a relationship goes through as it is dying. much like a patient with a terminal illness, once the disease takes hold, the person/relationship is poisoned and the end is in sight. sometimes the end comes at a quick and relatively painless speed, sometimes the decline and decay are dragged out for what may seem to be a painful and certainly, emotionally exhausting eternity. regardless of the speed or the emotional impact, what leads up to the break-up is a well-practiced routine that all of us in our mid 20s and older have rehearsed - ad nauseum, no doubt - for years now. we know from experience that life will go on and we will feel better, even if it's only because we cried 6 times today instead of 7. we also know that someone else will sweep us off our feet, no matter how much we've hated on and sworn off men over pints of ben & jerry's and uncountable bottles of wine.

that said, i still don't think anything fully prepares you for certain situations in the aftermath of a break-up, one in particular being what i call "the stuff exchange." after the break-up, we will gather our friends for a heavy drinking and binge-eating session and pick apart the guy who just broke our heart, scrutinizing every little detail of the relationship and making a laundry list of all of his faults ranging from his obvious aversion to commitment and lack of good judgment in choosing a mate to his annoying habit of scraping his fork on his dinner plate and the fact that he is socially inept and doesn't even own wine glasses. we will detail his downfalls until he is nothing more than an ape with a couple of business suits and a strange ability to - sometimes - communicate with the human population. at this point, he is clearly not a suitable person to date or ever waste another sad sigh or tear on again. he has been exiled from the land of datable men and as long as we can keep believing that we actually did him a favor by dating him in the first place and gracing him with our class and intelligence, we will be fine. unfortunately, we will see him eventually and that laundry list will fall apart, maybe not totally, but at least somewhat, and he will become a human again and you will know that he's back out there in the dating pool. ugh.

i don't make this statement because i truly believe we will all have the misfortune of just randomly running into the ex. i say this because there is one step in the aftermath that can't be avoided and requires at least some form of communication with the ex. it is what i mentioned earlier - the stuff exchange. now, there are several ways to go about this, i know. you could be really vindictive (which i totally approve of, especially if said ex was hideously mean or the break-up was extremely nasty) and just throw away his shit. slash it, burn it, donate it to charity - done and done. that's only an option, though, if he doesn't have any of your stuff. if he does, better put down the torch, or you're never seeing that pair of sandals or your favorite tank top again. so, where does that leave us? options 2 & 3 - mail it all back or have a friend do your dirty work and make the exchange for you. again, with mail, you run the risk of not having your stuff returned to you once he has his. if he has nothing of yours and the price of postage outweighs the price of your soul to have to endure a meeting with him, then, by all means, a visit to the USPS will save your sanity. if you send a friend, make sure you coach this person on how to behave when the exchange takes place. if you do not send a clear message to your friend about things you do/do not want said or done, she may just take it upon herself to scratch his eyes out and spit in the empty sockets as payback for hurting you. again, if that is the path you choose, so be it. however, if you would like to avoid you and your friend doing a little jail time for assault, i recommend a game plan ahead of time. sure, your friend can be empowered to make snide, catty comments - we're women after all and much better with words than any Y chromosome - but you may want to have a few guidelines or groundrules, that's all.

but, should none of the above options work for you, there is the face-to-face exchange. the most difficult by far, but also maybe the most satisfying. admit it - no matter how nasty the break-up or how evil the ex, you don't want the last mental image he has of you to be the one of you sobbing/sniffling/yelling/pleading/reasoning/insulting/blaming as he probably saw you during the break-up, whether it occured in person or on the phone. no, you want one more chance to show up, composed and looking hot, and retrieve your things while returning his in a very adult, civil, i'm-so-much-better-than-you-or-anyone-you'll-ever-date-again kind of way. contrived as it may be, this is your chance to show him exactly what he's missing and walk away just knowing that he's going to regret being such a fuck-up for the rest of his life. la, la, la...

until you get there. so, you've talked to him briefly, decided the when and where of the exchange. you're driving to his place and your stomach is in a knot. you suddenly wish you would be involved in a serious car accident just to avoid this hell you've set up for yourself. but, as you park the car and gather his shit out of your backseat, you take a deep breath and tell yourself this is FINALLY it, FINALLY the real end. and you try to be relieved at that, which you won't be right now, but keep telling yourself that, for your own sanity. he lets you in and, as you take the elevator up to his apartment - good god! how long does it take to get up to the 5th floor?! for-fucking-ever?!! - you reapply lipgloss, give your hair a toss and paste on a pleasant smile that probably looks a little more like a scowl or a grimace, but you do your best. walking to his door, you consider putting his stuff down outside of it, knocking and running back for the elevator, but you don't. you look fabulous, after all, and he needs to see it.

he answers the door and you go in. somewhere in the recesses of your mind you're hearing either warning bells or tribal drums, both of which warn of certain doom. at this point the meeting can go many, many ways. you exchange quick and get out, you sit and talk and have a trip down memory lane possibly followed by one more goodbye shag, you start rehashing everything and have yet another argument... the possibilities are endless. in my most recent experience it went like this:

tribal drums in full force, banging away in the back of my brain. walk into apartment and stand awkwardly at counter, he offers a drink, i take water. we chat about recent vacations and seem to relax a tiny bit. he asks if i want to sit down. ok, fine. we sit in the living room, talking about nothing really. and the weirdness of the sitation strikes me - i've sat in that exact same spot on his couch several times, but usually he would be next to me, sometimes laying down with his head in my lap, me running my fingers through his hair. he's watching baseball, of course, which only reminds me more of past evenings hanging out with him there. weird as it is to see it all in retrospect, it doesn't make me yearn for those times. i relax a little and sip my water, fervently wishing i had the power of jesus to turn it into wine. i stay for a while and as we talk, the conversation eases us both and soon we're chatting like old friends. still no desire to touch him or get him back. i also realize that i'm not angry or resentful (ok, maybe a little, but not in the life consuming way i assumed i would be). i also realize that he was nervous when i first got there. seeing him relaxed and chatting away now, i compare his behavior to when i first walked in 15 minutes before and giggle to self that i find it very satisfying that he was really nervous to see me. i do a mental tally mark for me and self. he tells me i look great. another tally mark. i do not return the compliment, i just say thanks and shrug, like "Duh, i always look this good!" i am calm, cool and collected. not wanting to stay long, i finish my water and get up to leave. stuff exchange - check. having him see me looking good - check. me behaving in my most charming manner - check. him being sorry he ruined it all - well, that i may never know, but i'd like to think so.

i go to the front door and he offers to walk me out. "no need," i say. he gives me a big hug and tells me it was good to see me. this time i tell him it was good to see him, too, and i'm not lying. the hug, which i worried might spark some kind of feeling, was completely harmless and felt like little more than hugging a good friend. he says to give him a call or email and i say he can do the same. he says we should get together sometime, which i'm sure he probably doesn't mean, so i play along and agree, both of us knowing it won't happen. i walk out the door and he lingers for just a moment, watching me go. i refuse to look back. i hear his door shut softly as i turn the corner for the elevator. once inside and heading back down, i let go of a breath i wasn't even aware i was holding. as i get in my car, i almost expect to get upset and teary, but i don't. i drive home in complete silence, thinking only that it's finally over. this is the closure to my closure, if that makes any sense at all. whew. and now i can actually go on.

so, you see, the break up is not the end. i consider the stuff exchange to be the true end. after the break up has happened and you've had time to settle, you both test yourselves by seeing each other one more time, under the guise of giving back each other's belongings. it's the ultimate test of whether you are truly over the ex, at least at this stage of post-break-up. it is a necessary evil, this exchange, but if you are able to make it out without crying, hoping to get back together, fighting, or doing bodily harm to him, you're well on your way to being single and happy. if not, call a friend and stop on the way home for some ice cream and wine - it's time to make the laundry list again.