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What is the best (and worst) way to end a relationship?

My talented son, singer-songwriter Sam Drysdale, just released a new record – “Any Other Season.” It’s actually two records. Two versions of the same original song. The “Spring” rendition is melancholy. Sad. Questioning and resigned.

The “Winter” version begins in the same pensive manner but by the end, man, does he get angry. Fully pissed off and unforgiving. With good reason. She has left him several times and every.single.time she departs when he is down. Dispirited. Possibly in need of support. But nope. This particular pendulum always swings the same way: UP = I’m here and DOWN = adios.

This adios is a big one, culminating in the song’s killer line: “Best friends don’t leave over the phone.”

Best friends.

Maybe they were?  But even if they were not, WHO the hell breaks up a serious, long-term relationship on the phone? Who is so cowardly, so self-absorbed, so insensitive and so spineless they cannot spare a few precious moments to offer dissolution in person? With awareness and empathy? Maybe even love.

Oh wait, I know who! The love of my life. The man for whom I left my husband and for whom I altered my life profoundly and irrevocably. Yeah, that guy. Twenty years ago, after leaving me 3 times (always in person), and after returning 3 times (much to my delight), he finally left me for good … on the phone.

We talked for two hours. We cried and bargained and sputtered truths and tried to make sense and then … it was over. On the phone, with miles of nothing but Wichita Lineman between us, it was over.

When I think about Sam’s song and I wonder, “Who does that?” … I remember.

What the hell is wrong with people? Are their hearts frozen?  Do they feel no compassion? Have I myself ever been so tactless and cold?

My first breakup (16) was in person, at a drive-in movie.

My second (19) was in the front seat of my boyfriend’s car, in my parents’ driveway.

Third was in a hotel room in Regina.

Fourth was in my boyfriend’s den.

And fifth (and sixth) – both with my ex-husband, were very much in person.

Some of these breakups were tear-filled sob-fests. Some were angry and dramatic. Some were resigned and sad. But they were ALWAYS done in person. Always.

Perhaps this goes back to my 17^th year when I experienced my own first, not-in-person, heart-shattering farewell. Except there was no fare or well. There was no phone call, letter, quick conversation at the bar or thirdhand message from a friend. The man I had been “seeing” for 4 months ghosted me. I don’t believe that term even existed back then but that is exactly what he did. I got ghosted.

Alas, 5 years his junior, I was far too shy to call up and say WTF? And so that particular ghosting has stood the test of time.  Ghosted forever (by him) I shall be.

The pain was pretty profound. The unknowing was pretty unbearable. But it was the unfathomable truth that I was not even worth a good-bye assignation, well, that is what ruined me. Because the simple truth is if your beloved can ditch you the “easy” way, what does that tell you about everything that came before? All those years? All those beliefs? All the love you thought was real?

That feckless lover I mentioned, phone-coward weakling that he was, confessed he couldn’t dump me in person because he would be incapable of following through. Damn, I must be pretty extraordinary. Do I have secret powers of persuasion I am unaware of? Maybe my son’s musical inspiration felt the same? Was she afraid he might talk her into staying? Did she not trust her own inclinations? Had she not thought this through? Was she unsure?

Geez.

I only have one thing to say to that: if you are absolutely certain a relationship is over and you have decided it is YOU who must end it then you most certainly should somehow muster up the courage (or decency) to do it in person. I mean, come on! You’re already the bad guy. You’re already breaking hearts and shattering dreams. Surely you can find some tiny ounce of compassion somewhere in your bloodless veins? Surely you can pull up those big-kid panties and act like a mature adult? Surely you can suck up all the poor-me-pathetic-posturing that allows you to believe you are somehow a victim when you KNOW that you are NOT. Surely you can at least try to walk a mile in the shoes you are about to set on fire.

Surely.

Do not break up on the phone.

Do not break up on a post-it note.

Do not break up in a text.

Do not break up in an email.

Own your decision like a grownup, remember the person you are about to pulverize is someone you once loved and then … show up.

It’s all about respect. And you may think it’s about respecting your beloved – and it is – but is more about respecting yourself. And you will. Especially down the road.

There is no glory in going the easy way out. No joy in cutting corners for cowardice. No pride in prioritizing your preservation.

Be honest. But be human. Be kind. Be loving.

Remember – Best friends don’t leave over the phone.