Now, I'm not implying that these crises are caused by the relationship. Far from it. In fact, if the problem had arisen from one's ex-lover, the problem I am about to describe would be easy to solve: simply blame the other party and redirect your frustration towards the idiot who is, even beyond the romantic grave, tampering with your life. These problems must be unrelated to the relationship. They must be independent of the ex-lover. They must be a health problem, (barring STI's, of course,) they must be a pet dog being run over by a neighbor's Toyota Yaris, they must be a family falling-out over Thanksgiving holidays, culminating in a short but heated argument between Aunt Holly and your dad Phil about why they didn't choose her as a Godparent, followed immediately by her saying that she never wanted to be your stupid Godparent anyhow. In short, they must be impossible to blame on the ex-partner. Because, let's look it in the face, if I had any reason to blame an ex for anything, I would.
But these crises are crucial. These crises are genesis for a true reevaluation of oneself following a rupture of romance. They are what separate the men from the boys, the women from the girls, and the foolhardy from the phlegmatic.
Why do I say this? Because I've often thought of myself as a very phlegmatic sort of man. I am generally calm and collected and I like to think that I don't rush in where angels fear to tread.
But god damn do I ever disappoint myself in times of crisis.
At the first sign of anything in my personal life going wrong, I buckle under the (all too commonly nonexistent) pressure of the issue and revert to a former state of using a lover as a crutch. I won't speak to my sister, father, mother, and friends about the trepidation that overcomes me, but I am absolutely loose-lipped to women who have betrayed my confidence or whose confidence I've betrayed. I favor a person I've wronged and pushed away to one I've wronged and has stayed with me. There have been moments when I reject my sister's calls when I know all she cares about is my well-being, immediately after which I call a girl who lied and cheated, and didn't bat an eye before discarding me. It is an inner struggle, which I lose all too often. But sometimes I win. Sometimes I keep my composure long enough to realize what and whom I really want in my life.
And to my credit (or to others' discredit) I'm not the only one to do this. I'm also the recipient of these phone calls and sideways attempts at redemption. "My brother is a delinquent, he's tearing my family apart" or "my dog just had kidney failure, she can't use her hind legs," or even "my heating is off, and my landlord won't turn it back on until I pay for rent." These are all legitimate problems, totally impossible to be connected to me, and yet why, why am I the one to receive phone calls and e-mails about them?
I put forward this theory: simple addiction, coupled with self-destructive tendencies and/or a skewing of reality.
The causes of the situations which throw us back into the reluctant arms (more realistically, ears) of our former sweethearts would have occurred without them. However, this article in Psychology Today states that we are all addicts, to some degree, immediately following a breakup. When we are faced with crises within relationships, (of course, I can only speak from personal and anecdotal evidence,) we are rewarded with caresses, comforting phrases and a chance at good, old-fashioned, mind-relieving sex.
Meanwhile, this doesn't account for the crises. Why does it seem that these earth-shaking crises are always put to us fairly soon after a break-up? According to my theory, there are two main reasons:
1. Self-destructive behaviour: With regards to health problems and interpersonal problems, the person whose problem it is is often to blame. The same idea is applicable to personal financial problems and, to some extent, psychological problems.
2. Skewed interpretation of reality: This goes hand in hand with the idea of addiction. An addict of heavy painkillers will often overstate a minor injury to, say, a leg, in order to justify their need for hardcore opiates. Parallel to that is the idea of recent bachelors overstating (often to themselves) the magnitude of their perceived emergency.
Indeed, I did say that the reaction to these situations defines the man, woman, and fool. And I maintain that. I think that in a perfect world, people could disassociate themselves from past lovers and that esteem of one's own control over one's life would be unaffected by those that have whored around.
But god damn do I ever disappoint myself in times of crisis.
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