Broken Heart Rescue Balm – A Home Remedy

Before Broken Heart Rescue Balm

Before Broken Heart Rescue Balm

Now, I myself am not capable of incurring a broken heart (because I’m, you know, a superhero and all), but it occurred to me that perhaps some of you might need a fix for this particularly annoying human ailment.

Because sometimes the universe does things like, say, dump a person in your lap that seems to be super-special and you think, “Gosh, the universe isn’t so bad after all!  I should send a gift basket with a nice thank-you card tucked inside!”  But sometimes this seemingly kind gesture is tempered by the fact that the universe – being the sick little pulling-wings-off-flies little fucker that it is – also chose to dump a big fat ocean in between you and that special person and things just don’t work out.  (In the movies, this wouldn’t slow things down, of course, but instead would inspire a cinematic climax involving a bouquet of flowers being waved out the sunroof of a limo, or at the very least, a boombox serenade.  But alas, that universe is actually a parallel one, one that is less of an asshole than your own.)

So should you find yourself in the blue zone (not me, because of course, my own heart – yes, I have one…a tiny one – is made of high-grade titanium wrapped in Kevlar with a thick coating of Teflon, thus I am impenetrable by such weak emotions as anything resembling this ‘heartbreak’ that I have heard so much about), I have a few suggestions for you.

First of all – it is important to make the most of your wallowing.  It is like sweating out toxins.

Ingredients to have on hand:

1.  A plentiful supply of tissues (or for the environmentally friendly, a pillow that you don’t mind getting snot and tears all over).  A cat will also do.

2.  Chocolate.  This likely won’t help a whole lot, but it won’t hurt, either.

3.  Ice cream.  Ditto.  (And what the fuck if you get fat, you’re never going near anyone ever again anyway.)

4.  A large stack of trash magazines with a high volume of articles about LiLo, Britney, Jon and Kate Plus Eight, etc.  This will serve to show you that somebody else’s life probably sucks more than your own.

5.  The phone – for when your best friend calls repeatedly to offer condolences.

6.  Sleepy drugs that you can’t OD on, like Nyquil or Benedryl.  Feeling drowsy will help you feel vulnerable and sorry for yourself.  This is a good thing – if you can count on no one else to pity you, at least you can pity yourself.  Plus, you are probably sleep-deprived from all the being-in-love crap.  But under no circumstances should you indulge in alcohol or other recreational drugs just yet.  You don’t want to numb the pain or risk a drunk-dial.  So spoon yourself around that box of Kleenex and give in.

7.  Soft, comfy clothes (even better if you have one of his old sweaters to wrap yourself in.  But improvise if you must.  Just make sure you don’t coordinate.  You need to look as bad as possible.)

8.  Hot showers – though you don’t want to waste any wallowing time on grooming, you will need to periodically rinse the salt out of your eyes or you will risk going totally insane from the burning.  Even better if you can manage to actually cry in the shower.  This is another one of those cinematic acts that will make you feel like a tragic heroine, which is a highly desired state and a key ingredient in Broken Heart Rescue Balm.

9.  A box in which to put everything that reminds you of him – pictures, letters, gifts, anything and everything.  It all goes in.  You might think this goes against the rule of wallowing, but it doesn’t.  You see, you have been living with his photo next to your bed/on your fridge/on your computer for so long that the absence of them now will be more tear-jerking than if you just left them where they always were.   You may replace these items with other things, just make sure the substitutes will not, under any circumstances, make you laugh.  For example, replace his photo with a photo of a sad-looking puppy.  (Not a puppy you actually know, or else your angst will be re-directed, forcing you to begin the process of wallowing over him all over again once you finish crying over the puppy.)

10.  Male friends who think you are fabulous.  Surround yourself with them.  Don’t under any circumstances let them kiss you, though – at this point, you will just be reminded of the person you wish you were kissing and this may lead to contaminating a perfectly good friend with the broken heart virus.  Perhaps later you can come to some sort of friends-with-benefits kind of arrangement, but right now it is too soon….far, far too soon.

11.  Caller ID.  You do NOT want to have to deal with mothers or telemarketers right now.  They do not deserve to feel the burn you are giving the universe right now.

Take all ingredients in any combination desired or required, as quickly as possible before scar tissue begins to develop.  (For those of you with hearts, you really want to keep it as young and healthy and flexible as possible.  It’s good for the circulation.)

The next day, shovel all those used tissues into the compost, put on your hottest shoes  – with the highest, sharpest heels possible, all the better to drop-kick that asshole of a universe – and go back to planning your summer vacation.  Go somewhere fabulous, like Paris.

After Broken Heart Rescue Balm*

After Broken Heart Rescue Balm*

*Results not typical

Some Assembly Required

I’ve been thinking a lot about love lately.  No, not because I’m in it, but because everyone I know seems to be falling out of it. 

BUT because I worship and adore my friends and want so badly to fix them all, I’ve been spending a ridiculous amount of brainpower attempting to come up with a profound and lasting solution to the heartbreak epidemic.

Sadly for them, when I allow my mind to wander, it often ends up in weird places, lost and embarrassed, with neither a trail of breadcrumbs to indicate how the hell it got there, nor a cell phone to call for help.

So I’ve also been thinking a lot about Sweden lately (for reasons too convoluted to go into here, but it is likely not helped along by the shiny new Ikea catalogue that’s been lying on my desk between loving fondlings for the past few weeks now).  Which brings me to my very deep and potentially award-winning findings.

The human heart is a lot like modern Scandinavian furniture.

Seriously, think about it.

  • Can be flat-packed to reduce risk of damage during transit.  Won’t, however, be of much use or give you much pleasure unless you grab the ol’ Exacto knife and just go ahead and rip it open.
  • Rarely ready for immediate use; some assembly generally required.  Those that are shipped intact are generally very small and generally decorative, which may give you instant enjoyment, but rarely provide a strong foundation for your interior.  Those that require a lot of work can be frustrating at times, but leave you feeling pretty damn good about yourself at the end of the day.
  • The strongest have undergone rigorous quality-testing, often involving pummeling with boxing gloves.
  • Sometimes there is nothing but crap available in a person’s own neighborhood, and so shopping must be done online.  Of course, this inevitably carries risks, as when making any major purchase sight-unseen.  That bed may look pretty sharp in photos, but you don’t really know how it feels, smells or tastes …um…looks until it arrives and you spend the night with it, and it may not always be of as pure a quality as advertised.
  • You get what you pay for.  If you are only wishing to spend a certain amount, you may have to settle for lesser-quality goods.  This means veneers and particle-board, people.  Particle-board that disintegrates at the first sign of dampness.  If you are willing to give a little more, you take home something solid that may endure for quite some time.
  • Can also be recycled indefinitely.  Of course, sometimes this means inheriting something that is severely outdated and smells kinda funny.  However, if proper care is taken, even those found on the side of the road in apparent abandonment can be taken home and revived, providing many more years of service.
  • Can also be broken in sex-related mishaps.
  • Attempts to divide between more than one individual household generally results in a useless pile of broken crap nobody wants.
  • Usually comes with warnings and/or some form of instructions, but 100% of the time, these things are written by someone for whom English is obviously a second language.  Not that it matters, because you never bother to read them anyway.
  • If you really take care of it, it could last forever.

What all of this devastatingly enlightening information means is that I have absolutely no idea how to help my lovelorn friends.  I am completely useless.

I also really need new furniture.