Hey...who hasn't been broken apart by a breakup? As creative linguists, most of us tend to focus on describing the pain...the suffocating void of (gasp)...
being alone
As a result, that is what usually dominates our prose as we cope with that gray, nauseating nothingness.
Buuuuuuuuuuuut...let's try capturing something different, if we can?
Yes, as creative linguists, we know that
***IT HURRRRTS, DAMMIT!*** and we're driven to write that pain away. As human beings, however, we know that the hurt and grief process also includes more than a few occasions when the pain takes a back seat to feelings of revenge, retribution, defiance, pride, you name it. And those little demons can prompt some *pretty outrageous* behavior that propels us up, up and away from the degenerative sorrow into some "I'll-be-damned-if-THIS-is-gonna-kill-me! superhero" that is so necessary to the healing process.
Those are the moments when our self-worth is rebuilt...and the stuff we blush and laugh about later.
Laughter, the universal band-aid, makes the monsters go away...monsters who are easily shamed by jesting at their pompous arrogance. THAT'S the emotion I want to capture in this thread...feel free to showcase your own experiences of that bitter, heartbroken little troll of your own that ate a lot of chocolate or repainted your whole room black one evening while you muttered "So what's (s)he got that I don't, huh?!"
Ummm...a cautionary note: IF you can make stalking or obsessive phone calls at all hours of the night HUMOROUS, go for it...otherwise, you'll probably be better off by exercising your Fifth Amendment rights to avoid incriminating yourselves
We've all been through this...and we've all seen the other side of it.
Don't write as though you're under the interrogation spotlight having to apologize for silly, lovelorn moments...write as a member of a big, giant club that understands and have fun with it. If we can't laugh, we die from a toxic overload of tears.
Nothing is worth that
With that, I'll start....
"Meanwhile, In Her Bedroom..."
"So you love her more?", she said with a sneer
and snatched up his picture, along with her shears
She sliced up the photo and wolfed down a Reese's
"But, sweetheart..." she mumbled, "I love you to pieces..."
Then, grabbing her lighter and sparking a flame,
She power-munched Bon Bons while muttering his name
She torched up his letters, continuing to chew
Pausing to scoff "See? I still burn for you!"
Hours and hours later, all chocolate depleted,
And keepsakes destroyed from that bastard who cheated,
She answered the call of her phone's ringing bell
And assured her best friend, "No, I'm coping quite well!"
