How do thou dump me? Let me count the ways...

I've always liked the tunes, but when I got the chance to read the lyrics... well...

Don't write a letter when you want to leave
Don't call me at 3 a.m. from a friend's apartment
I'd like to choose how I hear the news
Take me to a park that's covered with trees
Tell me on a Sunday, please

Let me down easy
No big song and dance
No long faces, no long looks
No deep conversation
I know the way we should spend that day
Take me to a zoo that's got chimpanzees
Tell me on a Sunday, please

Don't want to know who's to blame
It won't help knowing
Don't want to fight day and night
Bad enough you're going

Don't leave in silence with no word at all
Don't get drunk and slam the door
That's no way to end this
I know how I want you to say goodbye
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze
Tell me on a Sunday, please

Don't want to fight day and night
Bad enough you're going
Don't leave in silence with no word at all
Don't get drunk and slam the door
That's no way to end this
I know how I want you to say goodbye

Don't run off in the pouring rain
Don't call me as they call your plane
Take the hurt out of all the pain
Take me to a park that's covered with trees
Tell me on a Sunday, please

You know it is going to happen sooner or later. You have sensed it for quite some time, yet you are too afraid and in denial to face the naked truth. Suddenly, at a point of time which you can't really figure out, there is an unabridged gap between you. The more you try to shorten the distance, the further he is beyond your reach.

You may force yourself to pop the one million dollar question first, in a face-saving way: "Are we still together?" that actually translates: "Do you still want me?" Of course you would never say the latter one, it is too dreadful for both your feeling and ego. At least when you ask about the state of your relationship, you could project an image of a cold-hearted bitch, never afraid of changing lanes. (That would depend on how you present it, for sure). And ready to start anew (hopefully). It will hurt, but you still can have that rare opportunity to feel the slight pleasure of seeing him uneasy with such question. No more are you submissive to the power of his megawatt smile (or beautiful eyes, luscious mouth, even stupid expression, you name it). Or so you wish.

You could also wait until he tells you. Which could take forever. He might never tell you. He simply disappears from your life, and -- if you are lucky enough -- in a few months is rumored or spotted with another lass. If you're not that lucky, it will be, like, a few days. Leaving you with heartache AND humiliation, particularly when it seems like he has made public announcement on your detachment way before his dismission.

Or, as a gentleman, he comes to you and says: "We have a problem. We need to talk." The conversation will consist of hundreds of reasons why you two can't and are not meant to be together. Since you have thought of it over and over again prior to that very moment, you have prepared your arguments. But you know that they go nowhere, simply because he has made his mind.

Either way, parting hurts. Can you choose the way to be dumped? Is there a proper, nicer, less painful way to get rejected? Unless you don't save all the space in your heart for him, I doubt there would be. Not even on a Sunday.