Breaking Up is Hard to Do...Unless the Person You're Breaking Up With Has No Idea That You've Broken Up With Them. Then It's Not So Bad.

I've recently had two pretty dramatic breakups and reconciliations. The strange thing is that I'm the only party, in each situation, who has been left emotionally drained. In both circumstances, the receiving end of the breakup/reconciliation had no idea that anything had ever happened.

Of course I have to harken back to my life's recent dental drama to recount the first one-sided breakup and reconciliation.

About two years ago, my husband told me that I should see his dentist. He said that his dentist was happy to take me on as a patient. I was sure to make my husband check with this dentist to make sure that he could handle my manic behavior in the dental chair. My husband asked, and the dentist assured him it would be no problem. We could start "seeing" eacho other, thanks to my husband acting as the go-between to negotiate the terms of the relationship. (Doesn't this sound like 7th grade romance? Remember sending your friend across the school yard to confirm that your object of affection felt the same way about you?)

My very first visit to this dentist resulted in my getting a filling. Drills were involved, as you can imagine. I did my usual dental dance. I shook, trembled, yelped, cried...you get the picture. The dentist was totally unfazed by it. He was encouraging and calming. He called me dear and reassured me that I was doing a great job. He even called me later that evening to make sure that everything was going OK, and to tell me that I had been "very brave."

Now I'm no idiot. I know the guy probably rued the day he decided to pursue a career in dentistry after he was confronted with my antics in his office. And we all know that he must have turned to his staff in disgust/dismay as soon as I left. They probably all demanded raises and he was probably obligated to give them to them just to keep them employed at his office.

At the very least we can hope they had a good laugh at my expense behind my back, but in all probability, they had to go into group therapy for PTSD after dealing with me.

But the long and short of it all is that the guy was awesome. I knew it was love at first filling. THIS was MY dentist!

I even have referred a few fellow dental-phobes to this guy, and they all love him, too.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when I busted a tooth while biting into a seed in strawberry jelly. Yeah, I'm not even joking.

I went to the dentist, and he hooked me up with some massive filling thingee. He had been talking about some horrifying sounding periodontal procedure, but seemed, after his examination and filling, to think that that would not be necessary.

Things were great for a a while, but eventually the filling started to kind of hurt. When I called to check in with the dentist, I thought he sounded a little jerky on the phone with me. I was shocked by his behavior. I got all in my head over it and decided that I could not allow a person who was annoyed with me to come at me with a dental drill. I've pretty much got the anxiety level maxed out. No need to compound it.

So, I decided I had to break up this till-then harmonious relationship. I decided to go elsewhere to have the filling checked out. And of course, we all know where that landed me. Root canal city, baby.

The asshole who performed the root canal made me feel so horrible about myself. He yelled at me throughout the procedure, and then said, "Thank god I don't have too many patients like you. It would be very draining on me."

Not to worry...I did confront him and remind him that I had spoken directly with him on the phone and warned him of my anxiety. At one point in our conversation, he said, "Oh, don't worry. You can't be that bad." I was quick to assure him that, "Yes. Yes I am that bad. And in fact, I'm 100 times worse. And that's just when I walk through your door."

Of course my retort was not as strong as I would have hoped for. My face was numb with novocaine, so I am pretty sure I was drooling all over the place while I mumbled my rant. I don't even know if the guy knew what the hell I was talking about.

But I left there feeling like a jerk. I was thinking, "My dentist would NEVER do this to me. Not to my face."

I was all upset that night, lamenting to my husband the fact that I had broken up with my dentist. I rethought our conversation on the phone. Was he really being jerky to me, or was he just asking me questions to try to figure out what was going on? Was I so anxious about it that I read into his tone? Did I completely let my phobia cloud my judgment of the conversation? I mean, really. The guy had NEVER been a jerk to me before.

It was my husband who pointed out that it since the dentist was never aware of the fact that I had broken up with him, I could reconcile with him...again, without his even being aware of it. Then I started fretting over how I would justify my straying to another dentist for this root canal. I knew my dentist would take it hard. We've been building up our relationship for so long. If anybody was going to earn my trust to rip an entire tooth apart in my head, it should rightfully have been him. I mean, he did all this work with me and then for the "big show" I called in a wannabe, second rate understudy.

Stephen pointed out that since I had the procedure on a Saturday, we could depict it as an emergency, where I woke up and was in terrible pain and we went to that office because they had Saturday hours and he does not.

Great plan. Reconciliation in the bag.

I still have to get a crown to finish this nightmare. I called my original dentist's office and explained the "emergency root canal" procedure to the secretary. Stephen had an appointment there for a cleaning Thursday. As the hygienist was bracing him to get the cleaning underway, the dentist came in and asked what had happened to me. Luckily Stephen and I had our stories straight, because he explained the whole "emergency" thing. The dentist was very sympathetic and explained that he always responds to emergency calls and that I should never go through anything like that again.

So, he has no idea that we suffered a brief breakup and staged a reconciliation. As far as he's concerned, we've had a peaceful (well, ok, maybe not peaceful...I'm hardly at my best in his office) and uninterrupted relationship for the past 2 years.

Why am I always the one suffering in dental situations, and the dentists always
escape unscathed?

My second one-sided breakup took place today.

I got a letter in the mail from my gym. I expect it every January. It's the rate increase letter.

I usually just suck it up. This year, however, the increase just bothered me.

I had already gone to the gym, and I rocked my two awesome Saturday morning classes. Then I got home and found this letter.

I decided, "That's it. I'm breaking up with Healthworks!"

In my head, they were already dumped and kicked to the curb. Out of my life. Good riddance! Who needs a clean, well-maintained, superbly-equipped gym with loads of classes on tap at all hours of the day? Not me! I'm going to Bally's!

And I did. I walked down to Bally's. I was all but resolved to just join up.

People, the first thing that assaulted me on the walk in was the stench. It was like walking directly into a filthy gym sock. Then I looked over and saw a guy working out in Skidz. SKIDZ!!!! I looked at the calendar on the desk to check the date. Yep...just like I thought, 2010. Apparently this gym is in some kind of time warp. Then I saw another guy who was sweating so much hair gel out of his buzz cut that every time he touched the handles of his treadmill, you could just see the grease coating growing thicker. The guy behind the desk was missing a front tooth. I know I'm hardly one to talk at this point, but really? That's the receptionist? That's "the face" of Bally's fitness? I know there are all kinds of myths about women walking around in full faces of makeup. Actually, most of the women there seemed kind of normal. And the guys didn't seem lecherous or anything, but they were cheesy and gross at worst, and stuck in a different decade at best.

I didn't get very far into the discussion with the guy behind the desk. Just far enough to find out that they don't have any fitness group exercise classes, that the only words "Rough and Toothless" seemed capable of muttering at me were "you can purchase personal training packages for an additional rate" and to be offered a free can of "Rock Star Energy Drink" if I joined today.

Ah....I'm gonna give all of that a miss.

So, I gracefully exited the club and resolved to continue paying my monthly membership dues at Healthworks. If I divide the membership into weekly payments in my head, I think of all the silly ways I could spend that amount of money weekly and have nothing to show for it. At least I actually use the gym all the time, and the money spend is an investment in my health.

So, I decided to smooth things over with Healthworks and reconcile.

Damn, all this breaking up and making up has taken its toll on me emotionally. I'm glad to have this three day weekend to recover.