Recipe for a Breakup

An unappetizing, but necessary dish

Preparation time – 2  years

Servings – 2

Cooking time – A 20-minute drive

Ingredients

  1. Bittersweetness

  2. Love

  3. Pain

  - Correct measurements aren’t recommended, instead insert ingredients of your own accord.

Chill the air outside to upper 20s or low 30s degrees, pack snow firmly under boots till they make crunching noises.

Line a house with a group of friends that will begin in discomfort, but familiarity will rise to the surface.

For a warm feeling, sprinkle in laughs echoing the people we used to be. Keep separate, but throughout the night occasionally have your eyes meet.

The two of you transfer to the clean surface of the inside of her car.

Combine a mixture of focus and loss into the driver’s eyes, with folding in “I just keep hurting you.”

Keep the pot on the verge of boiling with “Then stop hurting me.”

To increase cooking time, ask “Are you breaking up with me?”

Chop up the words “I guess,” and throw them onto the passenger side.

The feeling of wanting to vomit will occasionally be stirred throughout.

The newly shaped words, damp with tears you’ll speak from the passenger seat are “I hate that I love you,” they will be left to cool in your chest as you know the worst thing, you ever did to yourself was love her.

Add a splash of one choked out sob.

You’ve pulled up to your house, turn off the burner.

Top off with a quivering lip

“Please don’t hate me,”

Take caution to not burn your hands on her face as you wipe away any excess tears

“I could never hate you, I love you,”

Let the final hug sit for a second too long or till cooked thoroughly.

Serve with a warmed side of “Will you text me when you get home?”