Dear Scumbag

Dear-Old-Love-cover-artThe limitless wisdom of the broken heart can only be surpassed by its vindictiveness.

Andy Selsberg captures both aspects of love gone bad in his new book, “Dear Old Love: Anonymous Notes to Former Crushes, Sweethearts, Husbands, Wives and Ones That Got Away,” which caught my eye at Chaucer’s this week.

For those of us who have wasted months, and possibly years, of their lives crafting the perfect zinger we woulda shoulda coulda come up with decades ago, this book is a revenge fantasy come true.

It’s also pretty funny.

Selsberg, curator of a website aptly titled www.dearoldlove.com, has been collecting short missives to ex-loved ones (or at least ex-liked-a-lot ones) and put them together in a collection that made me laugh out loud, with just a bit of bitterness for good measure.

Think about it. What would you say to an ex if he-or she-didn’t know it was you?

Ranging from bitter to flirtatious and sometimes downright disturbing, these confessional tidbits – “Your underwear is the only thing I remember from eighth-grade Spanish” and “I may have exaggerated my devotion to sports to win you, but my love of sitting, eating and watching things was genuine” – provide even more proof than the ongoing sales of Celine Dion records that “Breaking up is Hard to Do” and “There Must be 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.”

People rarely move on completely when it comes to matters of the heart, and this book, which the publisher calls a “toxic fusion of bittersweet memories, unforgettable heartache, and saccharine nostalgia that have plagued all of us at some point in our lives,” is a great way to laugh the melancholy away.

Some of my favorites had to do with family: “I didn’t want to have children with you, because I saw how you micromanaged your cat.”

“I really did want to be a grandparent with you. It’s just that getting to that point would have been an interminable slog.”

“Love’s not a competition, but I’m winning. Your mom took my side, your best friend talks to me more than he does you, and your brothers still support me. But I still want you back.”

Fame: “I’ll be waiting for you after your mild fame evaporates.”

And grammar: “I knew we wouldn’t last because you used the wrong version of ‘you’re’ in almost every one of your emails.”

Grooming was also an issue for many, with contributions like, “I’m consoled by the fact that the two of you will have very hairy children,” “I guess I have a thing for Jewfros now,” and “Even though the last time we saw each other you were in handcuffs and shackles, it was the fact that your hair looked terrible that made me laugh,” making me laugh out loud.

“I don’t care that we broke up, I only want you to still want me” was a common, bittersweet theme, in entries like, “When I ran into you at the coffee shop, your hair looked more gray. I like to believe that means you can’t live without me,” and, “I’m fine without you. I just can’t stand the idea that you can get along without me”-both sentiments that I can relate to.

But my favorite entry of all was more bitter than sweet: “Every day, I check the paper for your obituary.”

Talk about getting the last word. All in all it’s a satisfying journey to see disgruntled lovers have their final say-even if it’s only strangers who are actually listening.

In case you need help crafting your submission to www.dearoldlove.com check out www.dearjohn.com and don’t forget to share your letter with Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on January 22, 2010.

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