All GoodThings MustCometo an INDIE

Love? That’s so Issue 1. This week, every beautiful and happy thing has come crashing down. Which is totally fine! I personally am doing really well. It was my idea, you know. Unless you heard that it was mutual, in which case it was mutual. And honestly, I’m better off now! Just yesterday I checked off some things that had been on my to-do list for a while, like “shower.” Really, it was good timing for things to end when they did—my “Happy Valentine’s Day baby I love you” Instagram story had literally just expired, so it made perfect sense.

Though I am doing awesomely, I know that a lot of my readers have been struggling. Just like coming up with a good pun for the title of a weekly column, breaking up is hard to do. And the ordeal of finally saying “the end” is hardly the end of the ordeal. After the breakup itself, there’s still the tears, the archetypal eating-ice-cream-straight-fromthe-pint, the inability to visit certain emotionally

My best friend and I went through a breakup at the same time, and both were the result of our partners moving away. I’m still good friends with my ex and am doing alright, but my best friend is *devastated* about her breakup. I want to be there for her, but I’m scared she’s comparing my situa tion with hers, and I don’t want to make her feel worse. How can I be there for her in the best way?

Dear My Best Friend’s Breakup,

Yeah, this one is tough. How do you com fort someone who got a 77 on the test when you got a 98? The empathy route doesn’t work this time around. Maybe the two points you lost really stung, but you sound like a jerk if you try to make it seem like your experience of losing two points grants you the understanding of what it feels like to lose 23. The best strategy in that hypothetical situation is the best strategy in your actual situation, too. When you’re listening to someone rant about getting a C+, no matter how bad you want to qui etly, humbly mention that you, hm, actually didn’t do so bad, you keep quiet, you nod, and you listen to them lament about how the third short essay question was impossible, even if you personally knocked the third short essay question out of the park so hard that the professor drew a little smiley face in the margin.

In the same way, your best bet for being there for your friend is to be a good listener. In fact, you’re in the perfect position to be exactly that. You have been through something similar, but less intense, so you’re well-equipped to understand what your friend is saying without it affecting you too much. And even if you’re worried you might not be getting it right, you can always ask her what she needs. If anything, she’ll be comforted by having a best friend who tries their best to be supportive and considerate, even if you can’t do it perfectly all the time. Okay—I just have to say it—I got a perfect score on my last paper. Whew. I was holding that in for this whole answer. Sorry.

Dear Indie,

After a short stint in what some would call a situationship with someone I really cared for, I find myself still quite sad, even months after its ending. I can’t figure out if this lingering melancholy is one of three things: (1) I miss them, (2) I miss how that relationship made me feel, or (3) some future nostalgia (thank you Dua) for what I thought the relationship could have become. How can I parse through these feelings and maybe even not be down about someone who doesn’t really care about me?

Love, Sticky Situationship

It sucks that your situationship sank, and I’m sorry. I can see that you’re fumbling your way through a lot of confusing feelings, which makes sense—confusion is one of the trademark qualities of a situationship. Is this casual? Is this serious? I don’t know! Are we friends with benefits? Are we in love but just not saying it? I don’t know! Should I text you? Should you text me? I don’t know, and now we haven’t communicated in two and a half weeks! One of my friends sent me a TikTok about how situationships mess with your dopamine, um, output. It has something to do with risk and reward? Because in the up-and-down weirdness of an unstable relationship, the rare good moments feel especially…good. Okay, so I’m not an expert in neuroscience and I can’t find the TikTok anymore, but what I can tell you is this: your brain chemicals have been working I wish I could shrink down to the size of a tiny molecule and be inserted into your brain where I could fight the chemicals with my fists, but I can’t. Don’t worry, though—you don’t have to battle them alone. It might help you to talk through those dopamine-high situationship moments with a friend. Recounting the details to someone who can approach things objectively might help you start to hear them objectively, too, and then you can ask yourself: was this a moment of real connection, or just a moment of dopamine-spiking validation or attention?

This strategy might help you work through the confus ing situationship fallout and get a little closer to closure, but there’s one catch: it doesn’t guarantee that you won’t feel sad anymore. And that’s okay! It’s always hard when things end, even weird, dopamine-ma nipulating things. You can analyze your feelings, but make sure you remember to feel them, too. If you want, you can borrow my archetypal ice cream pint.*

*But leave a little bit for me.