The Break-Up Diet: A Memoir Read Online Free PDF Page A

by every guru in the business, writer's retreats, pitch fests, workshops, networking breakfasts, trade subscriptions, entertainment industry organization memberships. None of it was cheap. Yet, I'd give it all up, right after I gave up breathing.
    I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to reach that quiet space of creative peace. I found Kevin's face embossed on my mind in the darkness behind my eyelids.
    God, I love him so much. For his beauty, the kindness in his soul—and for his potential. I believed we could accomplish anything through our love and support of each other. He wanted to play golf on the PGA Tour. I wanted the world to embrace my stories. I knew if we worked together, we could make it happen.
    I still believed that. But somewhere along the way, he stopped.

    grid iron vs. nine iron
    Monday, October 29

    I heard the phone ring once. Josh called downstairs, “Mom, it's for yooou.”
    I gave the spoon a final lick, threw away the last of the chocolate pudding cup containers, and reached across the counter to pick up the cordless phone. The sound of Josh hanging up the other end clattered in my ear.
    “Hey girl!” Heather's perky voice practically bounced through the line. “Let's go out for Monday Night Football.”
    I was tempted to pretend she had the wrong number, but she already heard Josh, so reciting the only sentence I knew in Vietnamese wouldn't have worked.
    “We can order something greasy and watch the guys…um, I mean, the game,” she said.
    “Thanks anyway, but I don't think so.” Because honestly, I'd rather stay home, lock myself in my room, and cry facedown on the floor until I'm completely feathered with carpet fuzz.
    “Well, at least let me buy you a cranberry juice. It'll take your mind off what's-his-name,” she said.
    Impossible.
    “I'm not taking no for an answer. You need this. I'll meet you at the Aliso Viejo tavern in twenty minutes,” she said.
    If I got into my car right now and drove south at eighty-five miles an hour for twenty minutes, how far away could I get from the AV tavern? Not quite to the Mexican border, probably only to the Camp Pendleton Marine Base.
    “Don't even think about standing me up,” she said.
    It might be good to go out. Kevin doesn't work on Mondays. Maybe he'll come down to hang out with some of his buddies, maybe they'll go to Monday Night Football at the AV tavern, and maybe he'll walk in, see me again, and realize how much he really loves me, and maybe he'll ask me to marry him right there in the middle of the bar in front of everyone. It could happen.
    “Okay, I'll go.”
    When I hung up, Josh leaned on the kitchen counter wearing his let's-make-a-deal face. “Since you're going somewhere, can I have Adam over for dinner?”
    “I don't care, but you have to make sure his mother knows I won't be here to supervise.”
    Josh rolled his eyes. “I don't need you to watch. I've made spaghetti a hundred million times.”
    I pulled him into a headlock. “Make sure she knows,”
    I said. “Ack…okay, I will,” he choked out the words.

    When I turned into the sports bar parking lot, I scanned the aisles looking for Kevin's steel blue truck.
    Maybe he's not coming.
    Maybe he's just not here yet.
    The tavern was filling fast, but I saw Heather waving her arms at the bar like an airline traffic flagman, her short auburn hair bounced with her movements.
    “Hey,” Heather hugged me tightly and released quickly. “Look at you— your hair. Forget the hair—you're so skinny!”
    “Compliments of the break-up diet,” I said.
    “How much weight have you lost? Are you eating at all? You look sick.”
    “Eight pounds so far.”
    “In a week? I wish Derek would break up with me.” Heather patted her rounded hips.
    No. You don't.
    My eyes filled with tears, and my nose tingled, threatening to run.
    Heather saw my total breakdown only seconds away. “Let's order some drinks and greasy food.” She waved to the bartender and wrapped her arm around my