That's Just the Way the Rebound Bounces

Damn you, Daniel Powter! It’s all your fault for ruining my morning!

There I was, driving to work, and your one and only hit -- “Bad Day” -- came on the radio. As soon as I heard it, I needed to pull my car over to the side of the road and sit, all watery eyes and trembling hands, for 10 minutes while I pulled myself back together. It wasn’t nonsensical lines like “You’re faking a smile with a coffee to go,” that got to me. Rather, it was my memories that stick to the song as if they were recorded right along with the music. This was the tune that was playing in every radio, every Starbucks and every elevator for months both right before my separation and after. Which means it will forever be associated with two miserable parts of my life.

The first of those traumas is pretty self-evident. It’s the divorce. Whether it was hearing “Bad Day” in the car while driving away from a fight at home or playing it on the computer to comfort my son after a particularly bad game in Little League, it was the soundtrack for most every sad moment I went through. The other trauma the tune resurrects, though, is a bit trickier to explain. It represents something that should be a happy memory but ultimately isn’t – the Rebound Relationship, a.k.a. that first time you think you’ve found a real relationship for the second time.

I’m not talking about dating here. That’s really something anyone can do. That’s why God made the Internet. Whether you jump or get pushed into it, everyone eventually gets themselves out there. Dating is kind of like taking the SATs over and over again. At some point, if you pass the test, you graduate to a place of higher learning. And that’s the Rebound.

It’s an experience you never count on it happening. Wait! I take that back. It’s an experience that you don’t want to admit you’re counting on happening. No matter how or why a divorce comes about, there’s inevitable guilt once you start seriously contemplating getting involved with someone new. Even entertaining the thought of being with someone other than your former spouse feels a bit like cheating. The easiest way around all this? Come across someone who leaves you feeling so comfortable, you stop thinking about all that.

The Rebound usually sneaks up on you when you least expect it. I was dating very reluctantly, and only for a short time, when mine arrived. dating Within a few weeks, I found myself waking up every day feeling a little bit better about, well, everything. After months of moping, I stopped being such a dreary pain in the ass to be around (at least I think I stopped….those with firsthand knowledge of me during this period…please don’t ruin my delusion).

Unfortunately, during this phase, I completely disregarded some initial advice from a divorced friend of mine. He told me very early on in my separation process that I should not get too carried away with my first relationship. No matter how quickly one jumps into something serious, it’s still going to be too soon. Of course, I totally disregarded his advice because many years later, he’s still with the woman he met not long after his divorce. I started to think that if it worked that way for him, it would certainly work that way for me.

Turns out, though, his advice was pretty much on the money. No point to getting into specifics here – it wouldn’t do her, or me, any good -- but my Rebound bounced away in the space of a single early-morning email, announcing without any drama that we were done. I read the news on my Blackberry while at the gym, got dizzy to the point where I fell down, and that was that. She moved on to someone else, and I’ve been trying to figure it all out ever since.

Now for those of you who are still happy-ever-aftering in your Rebound, that’s great. It may very well work out, which would be a lovely thing. But then again, it may not. Just enjoy it while you can because if/when the Rebound ends, it is in some ways just as crushing as the separation/divorce experience. It’s as though there’s been a second death in the family, and it comes just as you’re finishing the mourning period for the first one.

When it’s done, it feels like a big medicine ball of failure smacks into your chest and knocks you to the ground, and it takes forever to get up and catch your breath. Since the Rebound by its very nature comes at maybe the most vulnerable moment of your adult life, there is a fair amount of pressure there for it to work out. So when it doesn’t, you get flattened.

After all, as previously discussed, perhaps the lone advantage to meeting someone post-divorce is that at least for this second time around you have a better idea of what will and won’t work for you. If your previous relationship lacked a sense of humor, you know you want somebody who will join you for repeated screenings of Anchorman. If you were used to the emotional volume around the house being turned up to 11, odds are you’ll be looking for someone on the sensitive side.

So if this is indeed the last best chance to get things right, that explains why I’ve struggled with relationships ever since it ended. I fear there’s an emotional Three Strikes, You’re Out policy. If I blow something a third time, I fear I’m going to be legally required to head for the mountains to start making bread with the monks. I know… not a very logical approach. It’s just that because everything seems so heightened in this second life, thanks to a sense that the clock is ticking away on you, every case of heartburn becomes a coronary and every failed relationship becomes your last.

At first, I didn’t think it would help any if I crossed paths with my Rebound. Then, it happened, a few days ago. We ran into each other, and she caught me up on her life. She’s very happy with her Rebound from our Rebound. They’ve lasted a few years together now, and she’s convinced this is the real thing. I wasn’t surprised to hear any of this. What did shock me, though, was how I’m feeling about all this news now.

Since she’d moved on, I’m always tempted to make dinner reservations for four – for me and my friends anger, bitterness and resentment. However, seeing my Rebound looking happy and barely even remembering our time together, I didn’t feel (entirely) depressed. Instead, I was envious. Not of the fact that she has found The One and he’s not me but because she was smart and secure enough to do what I haven’t – accept that all relationships are different.

Marriages, Rebounds, flings….they’re all wonderful but unlike a car or washer/dryer, they don’t come with any sort of warranty. You enjoy them for what they are but when they break down, the idea is that you go shopping again for something new and improved. Your choices are either drive yourself crazy obsessing about what you don’t have or find hope considering what you might still get.

So many times in this second life, we all find ways to make things harder rather than easier for ourselves because it’s all uncharted territory. I think now may be might time to get out of my way and just try to enjoy (there’s a word that’s surprisingly hard to use) the ride for a while. The only thing is, while taking this ride, maybe it’s better for my psyche if I tune the radio to sports talk instead of listening to songs on the radio.