It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken: The Smart Girl’s Breakup Buddy. Greg Behrendt

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It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken: The Smart Girl’s Breakup Buddy - Greg  Behrendt


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       Copyright

      HarperElement

      An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

       www.hapercollins.co.uk

      First published in the US by Broadway Books 2005

      This edition published by HarperElement 2006

      Copyright © Greg Behrendt and Amiira Ruotola-Behrendt 2005

      Greg Behrendt and Amiira Ruotola-Behrendt assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of this work

      A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

      HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

      Source ISBN: 9780007225187

      Ebook Edition © AUGUST 2009 ISBN: 9780007343508 Version: 2015-02-02

       This book is for the True and Mighty.

      Table of Contents

       Cover Page

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Chapter Three: He’s Not Hiding At the Bottom of That Pint of Ice Cream

       Chapter Four: If You Mention His Name One More Time...

       Chapter Five: Stop Calling In Sick

       Chapter Six: If He Was So Great, You’d Still Be Together

       Chapter Seven: Fancy Meeting You Here!

       Chapter Eight: What’s He Thinking?

       Part 2: The Breakover

       The First Commandment (Or, Just a Really Good Idea) Don’t See Him or Talk to Him For Sixty Days

       The Second Commandment (Or, A Strong Suggestion) Get Yourself a Breakup Buddy

       The Third Commandment (Or, Something You Should Seriously Consider) Get Rid of His Stuff and The Things That Remind You of Him

       The Fourth Commandment (Or, Sound Advice from a Couple of Smartypants) Get Your Ass in Motion Every Day

       The Fifth Commandment (Or, Food for Thought) Don’t Wear Your Breakup Out Into the World

       The Sixth Commandment (Hear Our Plea!) No Backsliding!

       The Seventh Commandment (And This One Is Non-Negotiable) It Won’t Work Unless You Are Number One!

       For Those About to Rock

       Bonus Chapter

       Appendix

       Acknowledgments

       About the Publisher

       GREG’S INTRO

      Long, long ago in a sad galaxy far far away, I was dating this stone-cold Superfox. And when I say dating, what I really mean to say is that I was sick in love with her, while she thought I was a “really good guy.” Needless to say, things fell apart. We had one of those awkward breakups where you’re living together and sleeping in the same bed but you’re not going out anymore. “Excuse me, I know you’re seeing someone else, but can I have some of that pillow?” Ouch. Who does that? Me, as it turns out. I was so smitten (read: in love with not getting what I want) with this girl that I was sure that if I was just near her, taking any crumb thrown my way and drinking myself to sleep every night, she’d find me attractive again and want my sad ass back. Well, it wasn’t long before she decided to bail. So off she went to New York to pursue her career, and, more important, her new man.

      Now, you’d think that after someone leaves you for another person and moves to another city across the country you would get that it’s over, because it is. But I didn’t. I was in love with the romantic and ill-conceived idea that I could get her back. And how would I do that? Drunken late-night phone calls rife with begging and tears. Bravo! How hot is that? Sooooo not hot, and not the least bit effective, either. Not only was I dragging my heart through the muck, but also


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