Speed Dating Events

Just as Indian heartbreak can arrive with little or no warning, so, too, can it leave. “I was just getting used to being in another blue funk, when it went away,” says a thirty-two-yearold personnel director. “One morning, I woke up and I thought, ‘Hey, I don’t feel so bad.’ I can’t really think of any specific event that led up to this. I guess it just ran its course. I was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired—I was ready to meet new people again.” Another woman remembers how “I snapped out of it in the middle of working out. I was in full swing, doing a step-aerobics class, when it suddenly popped into my head: ‘I’m fine! I’m really doing okay. I have things to do_; I can enjoy myself—I don’t want to stay mired in the past, I like going on with my life.’ It was weird; it was kind of like an epiphany or something. I don’t know why it happened then. But the feeling of relief when I finally realized all this was unbelievable. I felt a hundred pounds lighter. I felt like going out and celebrating—so I did.”

And then there are the women who can pinpoint exactly how their second wave of depression passed. “For a long time, when I got in bed, I used to imagine that I could turn back time and go back to the way it used to be, when my ex and I were living together,” remembers a twenty-seven-year-old newspaper reporter. “You know that movie, Somewhere in Time, where Christopher Reeve goes back to get Jane Seymour? That’s what I used to think about. One night, I had a dream that I actually did it. There was my old boyfriend in our old apartment, telling me he loved me, asking me to take him back. And instead of feeling ecstatic, I was horrified. I realized, ‘I don’t love him anymore. I thought I wanted this, but I don’t. I’ve made a terrible mistake.’ I prayed that I could change things back again. When I woke up, I was so happy. Not long after that, I started dating again and met the person I’m with today.”

Another woman recalls how she reached her letting-go point when “I saw an announcement in the paper that my ex had gotten married. It was as if a door finally swung shut in my brain. I thought, ‘That’s it, there’s no going back now, even if you want to. Pining over him would be a waste of time—and haven’t I wasted enough time already?’ It was such a practical end to such an emotional time—but I guess I was finally ready to let go. The wedding announcement just gave me the final nudge in the right direction.”

Finally, there’s the large contingent who say that they could get past Indian heartbreak only when they met another man. Maybe, maybe not. “You might think you’ve finally recovered because you met a great guy and are starting up a new relationship,” says Dr. Eaker-Weil, “but you have to remember that the reason you met him was because you were ready to. A man can’t magically chase the blues away. You have to do that first. When you do, then you’re equipped to share yourself with someone with whom you can build something good and lasting.”

We agree completely. You can’t hail a cab unless you’re strong enough to lift your arm first (or you can do that thing where you stick two fingers in your mouth and make one of those really loud, piercing whistles). And if you’ve made it this far, odds are you’ll be strong enough to hail a whole fleet of cabs, if you’re so inclined. Maybe even strong enough to hear the harebrained thing we’re going to say next without falling down, beating your fists on the floor, and screaming, “Lies, all lies!”

So here goes. After all these kvetching about the guys in our lives, after all the ruckus about those crazy, mixed- up men, after the reams and reams of we’re so super/they’re so stupid, we’ve got to say this one thing: Men, by and large, are a pretty terrific invention. Come on. Admit it. Even the women we spoke to who were in the throes of heartbreak despair could drag up at least one or two good things about the male of the species. And we’re not only referring to men as boyfriends or dates or sex toys (although they, too, have a definite draw)—we’re talking in broader terms. We’re talking about the guy on the airplane who helps you stuff your suitcase in the overhead luggage compartment, or the man in the deli who always saves you the last onion bagel, or your doorman who gives you a big welcome-home smile after you come back from vacation. So we thought it was only fair to offer up at least .. .

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