I couldn’t see very well, which is bad when you’re driving. Both of my contacts were intact and in place, I wasn’t drunk, or blindfolded – I was crying. Ten seconds before finding myself sobbing at the wheel of my car, I was hugging my ex-boyfriend, kissing him and crying while kissing him, mumbling some god awful sentimental crap while crying. I was a mess. I hate crying in front of people because my lips are really big so I tend to look like Julia Roberts in “Steel Magnolias” – my face all crunched up and two big balloon lips spilling over wet with tears (the up-side is Julia Roberts is really hot). Mike, my ex-boyfriend, and I ended our four-month relationship in September in the midst of my return to UMass. I hugged Mike, who was crying – which is a big deal for the ex-high school footballer – then got into my car and drove away. I wiped away the tears that clouded my vision and thought, “Well, hey, its not so bad, since he’ll be dead tomorrow.”

When I woke up the next day after a long night of Julia Roberts, forcing myself to sleep, it hit me. He’s not going to be dead. He’s going to be alive, and what’s more, he is going to be alive to date other people (Re-enter Julia Roberts, stage left). On television, when one of the main characters breaks up with the person that they are seeing, said person is written out of the show, never to be seen by viewers again unless during the illusive amnesia episode wherein he/she is called in to jog the memory of the main character. I was prepared to be sad that we were breaking up, I was prepared for the break up, sort of, but I was not prepared for anything after that.

In television, you, the main character, do not have to see this person ever again. You do not have to be friendly. You do not have to worry about running into your ex at parties, bars, the super market, church or the video store. You do not have to worry about receiving long text messages on your cell phone from your ex who says he has your “stuff”. For all intents and purposes, your television show goes on and you move on to another lover, another story line, a new haircut and its as though the whole relationship never happened.

Where’s the reality of relationships on TV (and I’m not talking about the stupid “dating” reality shows)? Where’s the season of “Sex And The City” where Carrie and Boyfriend have to live together until he finds a place? Or the episode of “ER” where Carter’s ex-girlfriend still comes over to have dinner with his mom? I want to see the “Nip/Tuck” where Christian does a penis-reduction surgery on his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend who is way hotter than him. Except for the prospect of penis-reduction surgery, all of these television ideas are boring and are therefore not explored by our favorite shows.

What’s even worse than the break-up misconceptions conveyed by TV is the idea that is so embraced, celebrated, and looked upon to be the universal truth in the world of TV relationships: there is that one person out there whom you will live the rest of your days with. Is lifelong monogamy possible or even healthy? My parents have been married for over 30 years, a relationship they have worked through very hard. I am proud of them to have stayed together for so long, but I can’t help but wonder if they would have been happier had they had more relationships than just puppy love with other people in grade school and then their marriage out of college. Would I have been as happy as I am today if they had divorced when I was younger?

Are my parents just as in love as they were when they were first married? No, they’re in a different kind of love. They don’t have to hold hands all the time or call each other stupid names. They are in love for sure, and they’re also way too stubborn to let one another have the last word, so they have to keep talking. They grew up in an age very different from ours, wherein couples booked the local American Legion for their Golden Anniversary after they returned from their honeymoon.

Nick Lachey totally wants out. You can see it in his eyes. He met Barbie, married her, deflowered her, and now the only thing keeping him from breaking it off with Jessica “I’m A Bad Singer” Simpson is the fact that “Newlyweds” is the only thing keeping his career going. He’s ready for Skipper now (and Ken, if my speculations are correct).

I have diffused some Relationship Science Fiction for you, the readers, as an early Valentine’s Day present.

Scenario: You broke up with your partner.

Science Fiction: He’ll die tomorrow or be deported.

Reality: He’s alive, he may live with you, and chances are, you are going to see him again.

Scenario: Your ex wants to be friends.

Science Fiction: You won’t care because of your new playmate, Antonio(a).

Reality: You can’t be friends. Your ex does not want to be friends, he/she wants someone to have sex with between relationships.

Scenario: Your ex believes that your relationship could work under different circumstances.

Science Fiction: You agree and can’t wait until the different circumstances come around.

Reality: The different circumstances are when he/she is not a big jerk.

Scenario: Your ex contacts you after finding some of your “stuff” at their residence.

Science Fiction: Your altruistic ex would not want you to be without an undershirt or a pair of “tighty-whities.”

Reality: You’re being screwed with. Wal-Mart has cheap undies.

Scenario: You see your ex, and he/she tells you that they are very happy to see you and even calls a couple days later.

Science Fiction: Its “different circumstances” time!

Reality: If you believe that crap, you’re the captain of this starship.

Thomas Naughton is a Collegian columnist.