Something I learned after I deleted Facebook from my life:
If I don't keep in touch with you already, I don't care what you've been up to. If I don't care what you've been up to, I don't keep in touch with you.
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"Have you broken up with that boyfriend yet?" asks the new coworker.
"It's on my to-do list." I'm every girl I've ever hated right now. "I just don't want to hurt him."
"Well, you're going to have to." She's the new Joanna.
My break-up thought process: maybe I can just disappear. Stop calling. It's a small town, but it's pretty easy to avoid people if you put your mind to it (see: Mr. Regrettable One Night Stand; Mr. and Ms. Roommates From Hell parts 1, 2, and 3).
O time, a constant relief in your nihilistic nature; a constant reminder of the futility of futility.
He's probably on the same wavelength: it's just not working out.
Maybe the next time I see him, the first day snapcracklepop will return.
He was an easy, highly convenient conquest. My sincere apologies, the boy. Rest assured: I have been, and will continue to be, duly punished for my inherent apathy.