It provides no closure, gives you nothing tangible to work on, and doesn’t even make for good bouts of self-loathing. You just have to kind of absorb the blow and accept that sometimes things don’t work out even though you did everything right, and there is nothing you can do about it.

The amount of time you spend obsessing over your outfits in the mirror before you leave the door, and how many times you tell yourself that you look ugly/lumpy in everything you try on.

I don’t care if he’s bringing home the foreskin. I don’t care about any of this because we are not obsessed as a culture with making sure men’s bits look like something made for a Bratz doll.

People fall out of love with each other for a variety of reasons, many of which often have nothing to do with you. We know our hearts are fickle. We know that what we want today may be different than from what we want tomorrow. Best friends, however, are supposed to be the loophole.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Oh, is it? Is it, future wizard? Of course you can say it’s okay, you’re not the one sobbing in a bar singing “Drops of Jupiter” at karaoke night, are you?

Overhearing incredibly thin girls talk about how fat they feel, even though you are clearly twice their size and within earshot.