Aftermath: A Somewhat Scientific Analysis of A Broken Heart

Written between Dec. 10, 2014 and Jan. 14, 2015

A boy broke my heart two days ago. For the most part I consider myself (apart from my physical body, which, by all accounts is a nightmare held together only by the miracle of caffeine and scarves) a satisfactorily functional machine that for the most part runs on thought rather than the awful sticky stuff that some people call feelings. High levels of emotion cause my circuits to misfire and, as such, are for the most part avoided on the part of me. So the last few days have been much like watching a bearded idiot pour water directly onto a robot. Because feelings are not my forte, my thought is that perhaps through this process I can get a step-by-step guide to getting over it, through experience. In this line of thought, I present the following:

How to Handle A Breakup If You Are Becca Evans: A Guide

  1. Do not cry before getting inside the house.
  2. Do not cry.
  3. Do not.
  4. Okay, now you can cry.
  5. Repeat.
  6. Eventually move from lying on the kitchen floor like a corpse to sitting on the kitchen floor like a propped up, Weekend At Bernie’s type corpse, which is arguably cooler.
  7. Applaud yourself for your stunning progress thus far.
  8. Continue sitting on the kitchen floor.
  9. Sit on the kitchen floor for so long that you begin to feel legitimate hatred for the architect that made the paneling on the wall across from you ever so slightly uneven.
  10. Graciously accept praise from your passing roommate on your recent move to an upright position.
  11. Graciously accept the constructive criticism that your “graciously accepting” face is very similar to your “why have we never played that knife game from Aliens before” face.
  12. Briefly foray from the kitchen floor to the door to let your concerned friend in.
  13. Return to the kitchen floor.
  14. Affectionately begin referring to the kitchen floor as your new home.
  15. Gracefully accept the bits of food being lovingly pressed into your face by your concerned friend.
  16. Accept that this entire thing was not your fault and realize that you’ve moved on.
  17. Stand up.
  18. Immediately realize that you were completely wrong about the moving on thing and collapse to the kitchen floor in what you believe to be the most dignified way possible.
  19. Attempt to consume the ridiculously oversized pity-lollipop you scored from your friend in the most dignified way possible.
  20. Realize this is next to impossible and spend several minutes attempting to dig oversized lollipop shards out of your mane of tangled hair.
  21. Give up and leave some of the oversized lollipop shards in your tangled mane, hoping that your mane is tangled enough that no one notices.
  22. Stand up and declare that you are going home.
  23. Collapse again.
  24. Promise your concerned friend that you won’t intentionally crash your car into a tree on your way home.
  25. Wink as you say this in a way that you find darkly humourous.
  26. Do not have your darkly humourous joke appreciated by your concerned friend.
  27. Go home.
  28. Gracefully accept the bits of food lovingly pressed into your face by your mother.
  29. Gravitate towards the kitchen floor again because its familiarity calls to you.
  30. Begrudgingly leave the kitchen floor after your mother steps on you a third time.
  31. Encounter an especially large shard of oversized lollipop in your tangled mane from earlier and seriously consider consuming it, but realize that you’re better than that.
  32. Realize that today you’re really not better than that and eat the shard with a mixture of grim pride and despair.
  33. Say “fuck you” to your cat for no good reason.
  34. Burst into tears and regret saying such hurtful things to your faithful cat without provocation.
  35. Think about all the possessions your cat has peed on in its lifetime and call it even.
  36. Stare into space for several productive minutes.
  37. Burst into tears at how quickly you say yes when your mother asks if you’re finished with your soup because that soup had so much left to offer and you so callously threw it away.
  38. Feel patronized when your mother makes a show of saving the soup in a Tupperware container for later.
  39. Realize that deep down this gesture actually made you feel better.
  40. Come to terms with the fact that you have now become the type of person who weeps over soup.
  41. Hate yourself for no good reason.
  42. Realize this is wrong.
  43. Find several good reasons to hate yourself.
  44. Put on some music.
  45. Realize you can’t listen to music right now because any song you listen to in this state will be permanently ruined for life.
  46. Put on country music because there is literally no downside to ruining that music forever.
  47. Remember that time he didn’t understand your “more cowbell” reference and genuinely thought you were suffering from an actual medical fever.
  48. Feel better about yourself as a human.
  49. Have everyone tell you that “time is really the only thing that helps.”
  50. Concede that this is probably true.
  51. Realize that this is really only helpful for the You of the Future and actually still leaves You of the Present pretty fucked.
  52. Be fucked up for a while.
  53. Allow
  54. A
  55. Whole
  56. Bunch
  57. Of
  58. Time
  59. To
  60. Pass.
  61. Like.
  62. More.
  63. Time.
  64. Than.
  65. You’d.
  66. Reasonably.
  67. Assume.
  68. So.
  69. Much.
  70. Time.
  71. Realize everyone was right about the stupid time thing, but accept that in the least mature way possible.
  72. Write about it in the most irreverent way possible, and hope that blasé self-deprecation counts as actual progress.
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