בארץ הדברים האחרונים

When you have a broken heart, everything becomes a remnant. You'll look down at your hands and disbelief will slap you in the face as you imagine that they once intertwined with another person's. That sweater you wore the night you ran three blocks to kiss him for the first time (you'll never wear it again), the show you used to watch together (you'll never watch it again), the juice in the fridge you drank when you were both so hung over — every tiny little thing in your environment will be imbibed with a jealous history that haunts you from all the little corners

you never even knew existed

One minute you're Superman, the next you're sh-tting kryptonite and you're weak and .sore

You thought maybe you'd found someone special only to realize that they never thought the same of you. The revelation disenfranchises you, numbs you, you're defeated. Everything you hoped and dreamed for is dashed, but worse, all the laughs and morning sex and him looking into your eyes was just a fat lie, a big joke, and you can't help but feel an enveloping sense of hopelessness. You want to believe that everything happens for a reason, but you get to thinking that everything happens because you're useless.

When you have a broken heart, you won't know how to put it back together. You'll be screaming inside everywhere you go, and while you're smiling at all the people around you, telling them you're over this and that, and you definitely think that guy across the bar and a cutie and you're going to give him your number — inside, it's all aflame. You'll find yourself in someone else's bed eventually, thinking this is the way to fix it, but as you hobble down the street to take the train home in the morning

you'll feel more broken hearted than ever