The Broken Heart Diet
It’s been good… better than good. It’s been great. You really like him. You think about him all the time. You can’t wait to kiss him, to sleep in his strong arms. You think he’s “the one.” You can’t imagine life without these moments, without this man.
He’s pulling away. He didn’t ask you out last weekend. He’s not jumping on your texts. He’s “ghosting you.” He wasn’t able to keep a stiffy the last time you had sex.
You are losing your appetite. You go to the gym to work off your vibrating angst.
He’s stopped using heart and rose emoticons. He’s stopped using emoticons altogether. You don’t have your kids this weekend, but when you ask him to sleep over he says, “I’m booked.” You know what this means.
You haven’t eaten in since Monday, save for cigarettes and vodka. You work out two hours a day to feed the adrenalin-fueled anxiety whirling in your gut. Your friends compliment you on your weight loss. “You look great, P. Charlotte!”
You haven’t seen him in TWO WEEKS. He doesn’t return your texts at all. He’s stopped liking your IG and Facebook posts. You check his Facebook page (you’ve checked it every hour for the past two weeks). You’re not in any of his photos! There is a non-stop stream of hot, young Russian chicks named Svetlana, Natasha, or Tinkerbelle. There they are at The Hollywood Bowl. There they are at The Four Seasons. There they are at your favorite hotel in Zihuatnejo… in the hot tub… naked.
No matter. You have a broken heart and you’ve lost forty pounds. You are down to your pre-baby weight. In fact you’re down to your elementary school weight.
Time to heal, sister. Time to enjoy some pornographic, heart-mending, mind- numbing comfort food, and feel better.
Time to go on the Broken Heart Diet.