Recipe for a memory. Recipe for memories of love. Recipe for girl meets boy, girl meets a different boy. Recipe for disaster.
Recipe for years of repair. Recipe for healing, for moving on. Recipe for crying in the bathtub alone. Recipe for leaving town. Recipe for distraction. Recipe for thinking of anything but her. Recipe for moving on.
Step One: Don’t try.
Step Two: Stop trying to stop trying.
Step Three: Collect and arrange neatly on shelf in back of mind: Her lips, the first kiss, the dog we adopted together, the shovel we buried the dog with in frozen winter dirt under a naked tree by the icy Kansas creek.
Peel apart judgement, guilt, regret.
Set timer for “What now?”
Set timer for “Do something. Do anything.”
Crack open two possible decisions and beat vigorously for one year.
Set aside and let chill for six more months.
Carefully transfer sense of empowerment back to self.
When timer dings, return shovel.
Put guilt, regret and anger in compost bin.
Remember to clean up workspace/psyche.
Dispose of used-up expectations.
Return all dangerous tools for self-medication to cabinets out of children’s reach.
Author: Thomas E. Speers
Editor: Evan Yerburgh
Photo: Author’s Own