“We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.” – Kenji Miyazawa
I preferred the days when if someone pissed you off, you handled the situation with a pistol and ten steps. Nowadays, if a friend does you wrong you need to rush online to un-friend them before they un-friend you. We’re such pussies. If the person did you way wrong, then you need to block them. Good luck finding that button. Next, you need to go through all the pictures they have of you and untag yourself and save your own version of the picture, scribble out the offending party’s face using Photoshop, and then repost it on your own profile. Whenever I find a Match.com profile picture with Mr. Ex painted-over, I know to avoid that woman.
Then there’s the mobile phone conundrum: Do you delete the contact to remove any possible alcohol-induced temptation to reconnect at the hips? You do realize if you do this you will also not be able to identify a call or text from the cretin. That might be a good thing, because what is more offensive than responding to the ex with, “I’m sorry. Who is this?” Insignificance is so painful. If you strike the ex from your contacts, what do you do with the lengthy string of text messages, photos, and emails? Perhaps there should be an ex archive where you can send all of this awfulness, in case it needs to be retrieved for legal or medical reasons.
If the relationship lasted more than a few hours (good for you), there’s probably a physical item or two that have been orphaned. These items include toothbrushes, creams, lotions, soaps, shampoos, earrings, bracelets, hair pulls, mini cologne sprays, books, DVDs, clothing, lubricants, toys, and various kitchen items. You won’t realize some of these things are missing for days or weeks. When you do, you need to weigh the importance of the item and replacement value with the painful exercise of contacting the ex and figuring out how to retrieve the item(s) without coming face-to-face with ole monkey-face. Most people opt with “Leave items in a plain paper bag on the porch while I’m at work.” A superior choice, if you must, would be to send a prepaid UPS box. Be aware the female exes are sometimes so jilted that this option may result in a quick revenge fuck with the sexy UPS fellow. Let’s hope that gets you a future discount, or at least on his Christmas card list.
The final decision is what to do about the places you both frequent. Lord knows we can’t have other patrons seeing you both in the same establishment (like they give two shits). This is a tough one to work out. Chances are you will both avoid the establishment and find a new one. This will annoy your friends, who like the original establishment and would highly prefer you grew a pair (balls or labia). The best solution is to silently agree that the first person in the establishment gets dibs and the second gets lost. This should be silently understood. No need to yell, “Scram, fucker!” in a crowded wine bar.
If you need any further rulings on parting, feel free to contact me. I’m an expert breakologist, and I work for fermented grapes.
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