A Day in the Life of a Girl Who Just Broke Up With Her Boyfriend

6:00am: Stare at alarm clock.

6:30am: Turn alarm off.

6:45am: Cry.

7:00am: Cry in shower.

8:30am: Arrive at work.

9:30am: Mentally arrive at work.

10:00am: Eat cold pizza.

10:45am: Pretend to pay attention to boss.

11:00am: Start texting ex.

11:00am: Save self and delete text before sending.

11:15am: Read old text messages from ex.

11:18am: Kick yourself for every bad thing you said to him.

11:22am: Kick yourself for the even worse things you never got a chance to say to him because fuck him.

12:00pm: Eat more cold pizza.

12:22pm: Listen to coworker talk about her perfect boyfriend.

12:25pm: Refrain from killing coworker.

1:00pm: Attend meeting.

1:15pm: Think about all the dick you can have.

1:22pm: Roll your eyes because you don't even want no dick right now.

1:39pm: Realize it's crazy that you don't even want no dick.

1:44pm: Accept the fact that you'll be alone forever. 

2:00pm: Wonder what the fuck that meeting was just about.

2:15pm: Cry in bathroom stall as quietly as possible. 

3:00pm: Eat two Snickers bars and stalk ex on social media.

3:15pm: Regret the fuck out of your decision.

3:22pm: Remind yourself that you did the right thing. 

3:40pm: Eat third Snickers bar...try not to puke.

4:00pm: Delete his number from your phone.

4:00pm: Reprogram his number that you know by heart into your phone.

4:30pm: More social media stalking.

5:15pm: Arrive home, wonder how you got there.

5:52pm: Check text messages.

5:53pm: Check voicemails.

6:00pm: Order pizza.

6:01pm: Think about cancelling pizza order and going to yoga instead.

6:48pm: Eat delivered pizza.

7:00pm: Start more social media stalking.

7:00pm: Realize you've been blocked from all social media.

7:01pm: Cuss him the fuck out in your head.

7:04pm: Cry to friends about it and listen to their advice telling you it's for the best and time to move on.

7:30pm: Decide friends are idiots and obsess over the blocking instead.

8:00pm: Obsess over everything.

8:15pm: White wine.

9:00pm: Red wine.

9:15pm: Rum.

9:30pm: Check and see if you're still blocked. You are.

9:15pm: Consider blocking his number as it's the only power you have left.

9:16pm: Question why you need this power. 

9:17pm: Beat yourself up for every flaw you possess including beating yourself up too much.

9:30pm: Remind yourself that you're the one that broke up with him and for great reason.

9:50pm: Question who the fuck gave you authority over your life and allowed you to define "great reason".

10:00pm: Get really tired of yourself. 

10:14pm: Get really tired in general.

10:33pm: Pee, then sit on the toilet for thirty minutes convincing yourself this is it. Peeing is now the greatest feeling you'll ever experience again. 

10:55pm: Go to bed.

11:43pm: Go to sleep.

Rinse. Repeat for two more weeks. Hopefully only two more weeks. Good luck to you.

The Fool

I was the fool. 

I was the fool that said we could still be friends. 

She invites me to the movies. Foolishly I oblige. 

She smiles that smile so sweet. The one strangers can't help but comment on. Compliments that ignite the sparkle in her eye. The blush in her cheek. 

Little does she know, it's that very smile that tightens my chest, that twists the knife.

But I can't blame her.

I was the fool.

I was the fool that said we could still be friends.

We sit close. We have no choice. 

In the darkness I smell the lavender and orange in her hair. I hear the song of her breath. I feel the warmth of her presence. 

Little does she know, it's that very smell of lavender and orange that causes my tears, it's that poetic rise and fall of her breath that rebuilds my wall. It's that exact warm presence that ignites the match that inflames my courage to love again. 

But I can't blame her. 

I was the fool.

I was the fool that said we could still be friends. 

We walk out together, not hand in hand, not side by side. The streets are busy and she's a little ahead. 

We stop at her car and she hugs me.

She's a villainous murderer. Me, her latest victim. How could she intend to do anything but kill me? 

Doesn't she know what a hug does to me? A mere brush of her skin against mine sends me spiraling down into anxious despair, so why the fuck would she hug me?

She knows better. 

I can blame her.

I do blame her.

I was the fool that said we could still be friends but she should fucking know better. She should know that shit ain't possible. She should know better than to smile like that and smell like that and breathe like that and emit that goddamn, fucking glow. 

No.

No.

I can't blame her. God, how I want to blame her but I can't.

It's not her fault. 

I was the fool.

I was the fool that said we could still be friends. 

I was the fool that fell. 

The Hardest Breakup

My love, my love, my love. Parting is such sweet sorrow, especially with you. 

For many years, you have been the light of my life. In joy and pain, every moment was better experienced with you by my side. 

I hate to leave you, my love; I've tried before but to no avail. I tried to just see you on Fridays, my special day with you, but when you'd call me on a Tuesday, a Wednesday, oh god, a Sunday, how could I ever say no to your sinful seduction?

And no, it's not only me. You have other loves, women fall at your feet, women just as powerless as I against your sweet bliss. I never cared. We'd enjoy you together, side by side, escaping our cares and drowning in your love. 

Oh god, how will I do this? How will I ever survive?

My dearest frozen yogurt, I must be strong; you must be strong. We must say goodbye. 

I have met someone new. He will never compare to you. His name is Kale and he's boring and always green with envy of our love but he's good, oh so good for me. He's the one I should be with. Please forgive me, my love. It is time for me to finally start doing what's best for me. 

I am freeing myself and you as well. Go on and feed the children of the world. Go on and comfort the lonely and depressed. Go on and be the basic, white girl staple. You've found your calling and are fulfilling it marvelously.

But it is now my turn. My turn to find my own path, a path towards my new "love" Kale, a path towards exercise, a path towards bending over, tying my shoes and not being lost for breath. 

My dearest frozen yogurt, maybe some day our paths will cross again. Maybe one day I'll see you in the streets and be able to say a simple "hello" without dragging you to my bed. 

Lord, give me strength. 

Alright, I've dragged this on too long. I must walk away. I love you frozen yogurt. I always will. But I must go a new way, take a thinner path. 

Wishing you all the toppings in the world. 

With love,

Marissa Joy