I remember heartbreak and it feels like a wrung out washcloth. It feels like numbness and rage and deep sadness all at the same time. It feels like flaming hot Cheetos dipped in sour cream and washed down with orange juice. It tastes like your mouth after throwing up, like you’ll never be able to taste normal again. Like your mouth is the deep pit of Mordor. Like everything inside of you is black sticky tar and you wonder who will tell your parents that you are now a useless slug of a person, an empty husk who can barely pick up the phone to call in sick for the 3rd day in the row. Like there are not enough hot wings and beer and ice cream in the world to fill you up, your insides a cavernous void, a black hole. You miss being human. You miss your friends even though they come by to check on you but all you can do is listen to them talk about movies and their jobs while laying prone on the couch taking up way too much space. You imagine playing out the rest of your days playing candy crush and spending money on games designed to make you spend money and you hate that you’ve become one of those people who falls for this scam but $14.99 for another 10,000 coins or bubbles or upgrades or whatever sounds reasonable if you could just keep playing until your battery dies and you need to get off the bed to find a charger because the one on the nightstand has a bent cord that no longer wants to work. Like you. Like how you no longer work because someone bent you. Someone used you so haphazardly that you broke and now you’re all glitchy and weird and need to be replaced.