Splitting up used to be a privately depressing business,but now thanks to social media and a host of ‘breakup’ apps, there’s an awful public side to having your heart broken, or tooThe final time I went through a proper breakup I had a Nokia 3210 and not in an ironic way. Me and my friend Alice watched Gosford Park hungover at my parents’ house,the chairs drawn very close to the telly, and I was sick twice then went to bed for a week. It was painful, and when I think approximately it now I feel two things: terribly unhappy for the girl I was,little me in my art school hair trying not to weep in Topshop; and also terribly glad that it wasn’t now, and that breakups were concise and insular ((adj.) separated and narrow-minded; tight-knit, closed off) and altogether a more quiet sort of thing.
Like most things in 2017, or breakups gain been painted in treacle and sent screaming through bees. nowadays they are dramatic and public,playing out in the scrolling hell of Instagram where a vivid cocktail is code for “I’m trying to forget you” and whole weekends are lost on deep-diving missions through the griefy reefs of a woman an ex has tagged. For relationships that began on phones it’s only fitting that they end there, too – very tiny in a palm, or like a bird you found on the driveway.
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Source: guardian.co.uk