It breaks your heart to do that.

But you know you need to. Jake's an adorable penguin. He's not equipped for what you're planning. This is going to be horrifying, violent, and very costly mentally. It hurts so bad already. But you need to do it.

You need to take ****, and you need to protect Jake from the consequences of your future actions. And that is why you send him a message.

"Stop whining. We're done. You don't get to know who sent that message, because you're not in my league, or his. You're a loser. Do you even know for how long I've been faking it? You're a terrible lover and a lousy boyfriend. Hell, if you weren't such a sissy, I wouldn't have needed a real man. When you get back, I'll be gone. I can't stay with a cuck like you. I deserve better."

It's horrible. It's harsh, it's cold, and it's hurtful. Most importantly, it holds a nugget of truth, a nugget that enables the true lie that you need to make him believe: that he wasn't the man you needed, the one person you wanted to make you happy. He needs to be entirely convinced that you two are finished for good, and worse, he needs to be completely disinclined to try and patch things up.

Your heart is shattering into a billion pieces, but you keep going and pick all you need to leave for good. In the end, possessions do not matter that much. They're, after all, tokens of good memories one wants to keep. And right now, you just want to forget anything that doesn't end in Brad suffering a thousand deaths. You're going to pick up the shards of your heart and turn them into knives. And then you'll skin him, slowly. And then you'll carve him up like a turkey. Alive. And you'll pay lots of attention to that tool he's so proud of.

Or maybe something else. You're going to think about it. The pain is horrifying, but you know it's the only **** you'll tolerate from now on. No ****, no hashish, no sex. Pure unadulterated sadness and its dark twin, ****.

________

Yeah, well, OK. I admit it. I don't know where I'm going with that one. It's growing on its own. It's aliiiiiiiiiive.