Cry. CRY LOUDLY and CRY UGLY: huge, guttural, animalistic howling and grunting. Crumple your puffy face into a red shiny mess and convulse like a mother bird regurgitating food to her screaming, bastard young. Pull at your hair until you look like an Anime character and cry until your eyes have been washed out of your skull and you wake up each morning looking like the human fly.
Bore your friends to death with how sad you are. Sigh, constantly. Start every conversation with ‘I just feel so…’. Send them texts of unhappy emoticons sporadically throughout the day so THEY KNOW how unhappy face you are. When they ask you how you’re feeling, scream HOW DO YOU THINK I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT GOD and then cry a bit and make them bake you cookies.
Do something drastic to your body. Get a tattoo. Dye your hair green. Get your forehead pierced. EMPOWERMENT.
Update your status on social networking sites with wanky song lyrics that are RELEVANT TO YOUR FEELINGS, because Bon Iver is really speaking to you right now.
Rack your brains for ways to get back at your ex through artistic merit. Write a sad song. Paint an angry picture. WRITE A BOOKER PRIZE WINNING NOVEL. Make sure people can FEEL how sad you are. No-one can feel your bottomless pit of despair if you’re lying on the sofa at an awkward angle because of all the dirty mugs you have balanced around your person.
Never get round to the above because you’re too busy trying to exfoliate the sofa fabric indentations out of your face in preparation for…
Going out. GO OUT ALL THE TIME. Be constantly busy! Go to obscure dance classes, do yoga or pilates or some other meditative shit to find your INNER ZEN. Visit exhibitions in which you have little to no interest, shout ‘PUB ON FRIDAY?’ to everyone you see. Be broke and knackered and constantly drunk but don’t for Christ’s sake have any time alone with your brain.
Meet new people. Meet everyone! Talk to questionable characters in bars about microscopes and allow your friends to engineer ‘situations’ for you. Join dating sites and receive dozens of messages about fetishes and other ones that read ‘HEY THEIR SEXI HOWZ U DOIN?’ Delete site membership and drink a lot of wine and worry that no-one will ever accept your cankles and you’ll be FOREVER ALONE.
Spend all your money on useless crap. New dresses. Lipstick in a shade that makes you look like a prostitute. Throw out all your bed linen and buy new stuff. Stuff from ‘premium’ ranges, or ‘luxury collections’. Buy plants and vacuous magazines and cake and self-tanning body lotion and keep throwing money around and dealing with your problems LIKE A GROWN UP.
Fuck your body clock RIGHT up. Stay awake watching Jersey Shore or Made in Chelsea or another damning indictment of the human race until your eyes are dry and your head is pounding then go to bed and DON’T SLEEP. Lie on the mattress with your new sheets on the floor because you’re too hot and ANGRY. No time for sleep. Only ANGER. Feel sad and start nodding off then MORE ANGER. Wake up three hours later full of the sad. Text unhappy emoticon to friend.
Don’t eat. Or eat cheese. Lie in bed throwing red waxy cheese casings at the bin and missing and then cry because YOU JUST CAN’T CATCH A BREAK. Manage to throw red waxy cheese casing into the bin and interpret your success as a positive omen. TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR DESTINY WITH CHEESE.
And then finally stop giving a rat’s ass.
Keep being sad and keep being angry but be sad and angry a little less each day and keep meeting new people and doing obscure stuff because it’s actually fun. Watch less questionable TV. Start eating meals with DIFFERENT COLOURS in them. Listen to YOU GO GIRLFRIEND songs and use social networks to post pictures of cats. Realise that your cankles aren’t all that bad anyway…