Heartbreak cures are as old as time, or at least as old as the Common Era. Around the year 1 C. A few weeks earlier, I had been dumped by a man I was seeing—and by text, no less. Even the rake Rodolphe had the decency to add a drop of water to his breakup letter to Emma Bovary, hidden in a basket of apricots, to make it look as though he was inconsolable.
Syed Ali advertises ketamine injections as breakup therapy, claiming that they can provide relief from heartbreak-induced depression and anxiety within hours. We sat on opposite sides of a long table at a Burmese restaurant, and I noticed him across the din of gossip and requests to pass the tea-leaf salad.
We parted last summer, after many months of what one could call deliberation but was mostly me pleading to be free. My marriage had been everything I thought I could ask for: sturdy. At first, I thought that was O. After it ended, as I was still trying to understand how I had got caught up in a mess of my own making, I met someone really, really hot.
The last time I saw him before he sent me that text, we were in his kitchen eating pastries when we suddenly heard the brass horns. I decided to investigate, one heartbreak hotel at a time. I had also considered a program called Renew Breakup Bootcamp, run by Amy Chan, a former marketing specialist who calls herself the Chief Heart Hacker. I called Chan. How are we in bondage? The lobby of Kripalu was buzzing with fit white women carrying pastel-colored water bottles.
Healing from Heartbreak. I asked if it had been hard to record those parts of the book. I had just done so much healing. I could see that. Her long brown hair was now full and lustrous. In her book, she describes it falling out amid the stress of her breakups.
