On Recycling Old Material (no. 1)

Last year I got a short gig as a freelance columnist for a men’s magazine. It was fun, I could write about whatever I wanted, as long as it was a “rant.” My first column follows thusly (keeping in mind, please, that I consider your own good selves and the readers of said magazine to be fairly different audiences):

Bad Relationship II: Son of the Bad Relationship

If there’s one thing we can learn from the movies, its not that the good guys always win (they don’t), or that everyone gets a happy ending (we don’t), or that the brainy girl will be hot once she takes off her glasses (she won’t). Its simply this: sequels are never as good as the originals.

Whether it’s the soul crushing disappointment of The Godfather Part III or the protracted molestation the Wachowski brothers committed upon the viewing public in the guise of the Matrix sequels, we all instinctively know that the second time round is never as good as the first.

It’s a shame then that we can’t adapt this universal knowledge to other areas of life, and in particular, women.

Over the past few months at least three good friends of mine have all found themselves on the soul destroying round-a-bout of the broken relationship that keeps trying to revive itself. It’s depressing and maddening to watch, and as guys we have to learn to stand up and cut this crap out.

Okay, so its not exactly easy to admit as guys, but how many of us haven’t been tempted out of retirement, Rambo styles, and back into a situation we thought long dead on the promises of a revival of good times passed? Its particularly tempting when the woman luring you back was the one who called it quits if the first place. After all, what better way to exorcise the demons of rejection than by shagging said demonness?

Unfortunately, like Police Academy 2 through 7, each repeated experience to revisit the past will leave you feeling even more bitter and dissatisfied than before. The trying experience of splitting from your missus (yes guys, its alright to admit that that shit’s hard for us too) is even worse when it’s the second or third time its happened with the same woman, and no doubt for the same reasons.

The sad fact is that people don’t change, particularly not in the two weeks its been since you split to the moment she calls you asking for you to come back.

One of my ill-fated friends had his girl leave without warning, citing no reason whatsoever (my moneys on her lurking ex). With him shell-shocked and confused, we did what good mates do: got a few beers in him and cheered him on to feeling good again. At the moment of his ego starting to rebound, the ex found out via a mutual friend that he was doing well and eager to meet someone new. Within moments she was on the phone to him, wailing operatically of the hurt he had visited upon her by moving on so quickly, even going so far as to suggest that he had misunderstood the situation: she had not intended to break up, merely to take a break.

Sure. And the boat in Speed 2 was a fantastic idea.

As we mates stood by and even protested, we watched our barely recovered compadre descend once again into the exact place from which he had just escaped. He deflected our warnings, saying that he was going to take control this time around, and not take any crap. They skipped around like besotted Victorian school children for a few days, and then within a week she had packed a sad and wasn’t talking to him. Again, she cited no reason (ex still lurking).

I’ll cut a long story slightly less long: as of the time of writing this article, they have repeated this dance no less than three times within three months. Every time, our friend is a little more drawn, a little more depressed, and a little more ashamed. Every time, she gives no reason (other than running to her ex, who’s just a really good friend and is a great listener. Right. And The Phantom Menace was a fitting and respectful new chapter of a beloved saga).

And as much as I will stand by my mate, there is a fine line between giving a girl the benefit of the doubt and being a complete sap. But it’s a line that seems to be crossed more often than we’re happy to admit.

Of course, we all know of those folk that split off for a while before realising they’re perfect for each other and getting back together and living happily ever after. We also know of lotto millionaires and guys that score supermodels, but it doesn’t mean we should quit our jobs and book a ticket to Milan on blind faith alone.

The point is this: whether its us or them that started walking away, its up to us and us alone to suck it up and keep going. It is, after all, the difference between your life being Jaws and Jaws IV: The Revenge.