25 October 2007

Stop reaching for a rebound

Whatever the reason, whether it's them, whether it's you, whether it's timing or circumstances out of your control, when you can't have the one you want, the one you really want, the one you know deep down was put on this earth for you and you alone, the standard for what you'll allow to come after them is inextricably tied - and unavoidably lowered due - to the still-fresh memory of the one from which you were forced to walk away.

Put simply, you rebound.

And while this sort of relationship can work and has worked, for the most part, the allure of having something new and of being seen with something new, regardless of its inadequacy, will rapidly lose its lustre and thrust you head and heart first into one of those I'll-never-find-something-better phases.

That's presently where I am.

But it's not exactly what you may be thinking.

My heart is broken, yes, and I have been trying to move on with limited success due to both my unwillingness to accept the so-not-my-choice departure of "the one" and because of the string of vastly inferior replacements with which I've attempted (and patently failed) to fill this gaping void.

But you've got to understand, this one was special. Really special. I mean, how often does one find a perfect condition circa-1956 gold lamé cocktail dress with waist-cinch, pleated pencil skirt, and a gathered front and back deep v-neck plunge?

But the dress is gone. It's done. And I need to move on with the mindset that I'm no longer looking for another version of my perfect dress but rather opening my mind - and heart - to the possibility of falling for something completely different.

Maybe next time it'll be a silk burgundy sheath with cap-sleeves and a drop-waist. Maybe a backless gunmetal column gown. Who knows?

All I do know is that after having received in the mail yesterday my fifth nope-not-good-enough gold lamé vintage cocktail dress (very similar to this), I'm through looking for the perfect replica of the perfect past dress. In fact, I'm gonna stop looking altogether. Two episodes ago on Tell Me You Love Me, therapist May told recently single sex-addict Jamie that only when she stops actively trying to replace her former fiancé will she stop reaching for unhealthy, unsuccessful rebounds.

And they say you don't learn anything on TV...

Here below, exactly 13 months ago this Friday, my last evening with "the one." I can barely stand to look at it. Or my hair.

30 comments:

bff in chicago said...

uh oh, I know this tone...

Anonymous said...

I picked up on your trick right away. "from which" instead of "from whom" - you don't just accidentally make that mistake. Hah!

tellin' it like it is said...

I don't get why that dress was so special. So what, it's old and that makes it better than some other gold dress?

16th streeter said...

i'm now addicted to another TV show because of you. TMYLM is intense!

Anonymous said...

What happened to your dress?

holiday said...

The pleating on that dress is absolutely beautiful. What happened to it? Do you lose it or ruin it?

N said...

Perhaps a fabulous haircut deserves a fabulous new dress. You'll still always have a place in your heart for "the one," but sometimes you simply outgrow him...I mean it.

Johanna said...

I wrote a post once about how we shouldn't blame clothes for the memories we created while wearing them...seems I can't take my own advice. I still have it, but I just can't wear it. Any takers?

Half-kidding.

brown rowergirl said...

If I could fit into it, I'd gladly take it off your hands! Especially if it meant you'd get over this one already.

But obviously you should keep it for yourself. As Justin Bobby wisely says, "Truth and time will tell." Indeed, Justin Bobby, *indeed*.

love you,
B

sara said...

Maybe you should set up an exchange where we can swop clothes associated with heartbreak, disaster or disappointment. You'd part with your dress, and all its memories, and it would go to someone who wouldn't associate it with anything bad. In return, you'd receive an item they could no longer wear. You could set it up as a website with a clearing house for items rendered unwearable by heartbreak.

Dave said...

Damn you, Jo, tricking me into thinking you were talking about romance.

brown bride to be said...

You have GOT to give me that dress for safe keeping so you don't do anything rash. For serious. I thought we were over this/him, no?

K said...

I'm not the person to give advice on something like this. I always sell items with bad memories - jewelry, clothes, whatever - on eBay, then wait a while to spend the money, so I don't associate the new purchase with the tainted items.

That dress would be difficult to let go, though. Tiffany necklaces, not so much.

N said...

I'm with you, K. I am a total purger, so much so that I have even been called a revisionist. Maybe just tuck the dress away for a time when the memories no longer hurt.

Anonymous said...

Are you serious? Why give up a great dress for a crappy guy? The dress had nothing to do with it. That's just being ridiculous. And it'll look completely different with your new hair.

TXN in DC said...

So y'all really sell things from exboyfriends/relationships? I'm in a similar situation now - been broken with up the ex for almost 2 years and dating someone else now(who's fabulous, btw). In just a few months, Mr. Fabulous and I are moving in together and I'm ready to get rid of gifts from the ex - what do I do with the jewelry I was given? Ebay? Seriously?

casual observer said...

I think the bad memory associated with the dress has something to do with that left hand ring. You have hooked too many memories to the dress. Give it away, move on. Look for something else that makes you look fabulous, but don't go buy it's twin.

west coast devotee said...

casual observer raises a very good point, Johanna. Is there something you've been keeping from me???

london girl said...

Uh...yeah, hello? What's with the ring, missy?

Johanna said...

There's no ring. That must be an optical illuuuusion (said in Ron Burgundy voice) from the light refraction off my blingy dress. Yet *another* reason why it's so difficult to give up -- because it has magical powers...

Anonymous said...

There is definitely a ring there.

Anonymous said...

totally a ring

Anonymous said...

No question.

Anonymous said...

But the photo's taken in a mirror, right? So that's the right hand.

Johanna said...

Yes, EXACTLY!

Anonymous said...

It seems wise to heed your own advice about the dress and first really give up the guy. Then, when you really let him go, the dress might be palatable again.

freckledk said...

When you find the person who makes you forget all of that prior ickiness, you will be ready to wear - and enjoy wearing - that dress. The mark is not indelible, it's just not completely faded yet. Hang on to the dress - tuck it away and pull it out when you've all but forgotten his name. He shouldn't get to have that, so don't give it up to him.

Anonymous said...

it has to be excised.
pick up a new relic; as in have the space from the dress be open so that when you see something flamboyant, you can just seize it.

Maxie said...

You need to make some new memories in that dress. Believe me, I know. My favorite dress was also my ex-fiancee's favorite dress on me...and for a while it was really hard to wear. But now that I shared it with someone else, it's back to being just my favorite.

Anonymous said...

Interesting post Gorgeous. (told ya I read your blog). Give my best to Montel.