Breakups are brutal. They are life-sucking, undignified, whirlpools of emotional defeat that are almost sickening to endure. I’ve spent the aftermath of a big split crying for two weeks in the shower, only leaving the house to feel like I was being punched every time I looked at (or slept with) another male human, picking up the guitar with only one purpose: to write sad songs, slashing my hair, blowing obscene amounts of money on new clothes, drinking obscene amounts of alcohol. You feel disgusting, you look disgusting, you might even smell disgusting. No person should go through this painful period in public. It’s not right! It’s not fair.
Worse, no girl should have to follow up an unceremonious dumping by reading the play-by-play in the news. Breakups are not news. Breakups are bullshit.
So let’s agree to go easy on poor, newly-single Sarah Larson. Let’s be on her team. This is the kind of public shame that no one should have to go through alone.
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