There is nothing prettier than watching your own relationship end. It’s another story for you to tell on the bus on your way to see the woman who made you, on Mother’s Day. That’s all it is. That’s all it was. You need to start training again for the amount of partying that you’re about to dive into. God, who invented the Frozen Margarita? You owe them your life right now. Take a whiff. “The End” has a very particular smell to it. What a perfume! It’s beautiful, it smells alot like “The Beginning”. But, it may take you a few days to notice. Right now you’re just watching the choreography. The phone calls taper off, the disagreements flare up, restaurants become difficult to choose and the “flirt meter” when you’re out with friends gets so easy to defend. It feels like high school again, the only time in your life where hurting so bad felt so good and music sounded better because of it, and junk food was fascinatingly nourishing. The days when a lake was not just a lake. No, it was a body of water with all of the answers. The silent ride home becomes… deep inspiration for the poem you’re writing on your arm for your secret online diary. No one understands you, you pretend, and there’s all this snot in your nose and you blow it out like a movie you saw where the dude was cool and right now you don’t care, like he didn’t care. When you finally hear the words “I don’t think this is working” you pantomime a kiss to the sky and you let your left brain do the talking as your right brain rejoices because you are free, finally free, from all of this pretender bullshit and you’re back on the path to fulfilling what you were put on this planet to do.