The public newspaper isn't often used to interrogate private matters, unless you're Sally Quinn. But sometimes, curiously, men try to write about their failed love lives like sullen teenagers, and the results are humiliating (for them).
The column begins innocently, perhaps too much so.
Our life together — it was like Disney World. We ran carefree in this theme park we call life. Holding each others' hands, we laughed, cried, loved, and we were in awe of everything we experienced. We were children with dreams, and together, we thought about the day when all of ours would come true.
Yes, Disney World, the place where mature love flourishes.
Eventually, though, those roller coasters stopped.
The music died down, the lights shut off, and our magical journey came to an abrupt halt.
You were gone.
Suddenly, everything that was so familiar about life felt so foreign. I was lost without you. All I had left were my memories and dreams of us that I knew would never come true.
Listen, buddy. An "abrupt" end to a relationship for one person is usually not so abrupt for the other. Perhaps if you spent more time paying attention to the actual human that was your ex and the vagaries of a relationship instead of projecting your "dreams" onto them, things might have gone better.
Regardless, D'Ambrosio has to make his peace with his erstwhile ex for the Asbury Park area readership (and other cities, too, the column has been syndicated nationwide). This is not only a selfish move, but an aggressive one, with no regard for the ex's feelings. But this column is not about the ex, it is about D'Ambrosio's pathetic narcissism.
Case in point:
As for me? I'm happy. I've found peace. I am busier than ever with work, I found a new passion with writing, and I've been rebuilding a life that was once in a million pieces. I still dream of having a family. I still dream of holding my own child. Of course, I still dream of falling in love and finding my true happiness.
I'm much of the same Anthony you knew, but so much different.
Anthony: Nobody asked. She left you. She doesn't want to know.
As for reasons why Anthony should have held his ex tighter, we get: because of the way she said hi on the phone, because of her sass, because of how she looked while she slept. Ex, you did the right thing.
Anthony's sad stab at creative writing reminds me of another horrific column from a few years ago, in which Andrew Cohen, a legal analyst for now-defunct Politics Daily, wrote a letter to his ex-wife on her wedding day to her new husband. Men are really just a stunningly idiotic species. There may be no hope for women if we continue to marry them.
Men: Don't do this. The holiday season has passed, but if you care, buy the sad, single man in your life a gift he can surely use: a journal.
[Photo via Shutterstock]