He was the sun in your sky, the cream in your coffee, the spring in your step. When you awoke, your first thought was of his embrace, whether you were tangled in it or not. Every evening before you slumbered, he was the last image to cross your weary mind, even if his body wasn't suctioned to yours in bed. If anyone was more in love than you two were, they would've been teenage vampires. Visions of your unborn offspring danced in both of your heads (and it wasn't even creepy). He was your only. He was The One.
'Til it was over.
He said he needed space. He said he needed time. Pretty soon, you no longer saw him nightly. Or even daily. The next thing you knew, he was on the phone, telling you that it would never work out for you two. It was over. You're too different. You want different things outta life. You're on different wavelengths. And if there'd ever been a time that you'd lobby to strike the word "different" from the English language, well, that would've been in it.
You got dumped, sister. Poor you. It's one thing to extract yourself from his physical reality, whether it's voluntary or not. Now there's a whole other realm to concern yourself with post-breakup: the virtual world. Hell, your online life is so intertwined with his that it's as if he's still the center of your universe. And as much as you probably don't wanna, you gotta give your ex the ax.
Take up citizenship in the Eradication Nation. It's harsh, but do you want that constant reminder of him splattered all over Facebook? Every time he posts an update about where he's going for the evening, what he's doing for the weekend, and every time he likes someone's status message, do you want your heart to fall into your stomach? Do you want to see his name pop up on your Google Chat friend list every time you log in? 'Course you don't, lady. Block his ass, and block it fast. Thoroughly. Summarily. Sure, the argument could be made for simply de-friending and untagging, but the dirty truth? Breakup first, friendship later, loves. So sever any and all connections with him with one fell swoop. Now.
Keep it on the down low. Don't do anything post-togetherness that you wouldn't have done while in the relationship. It's gonna raise eyebrows - namely the eyebrows of your ex and his rat pack. Now's not the time to start a Twitter account or a blog, especially if your ex is a Twitter or blogging freak. Your ex is gonna believe it's all about him, and if there's anything you don't wanna do, it's inflate his heartbreakin' head. Spare him the satisfaction of knowing that you're doing everything you can to cope.
Ramp up security. Remember that Sunday afternoon, when you were both happily swaddled in the sheets, and you wanted to check your email, but the laptop was on his stomach? Yeah, and remember that you happened to tell him that your password was your grandma's middle name and the day of the month that you lost your virginity? Trust us; he remembers, too. Now's the perfect time to change your passwords. All of 'em. You can't have him pokin' around your social sites and cockblockin' you once he realizes it was a big ol' mistake to let you go. 'Specially when you finally do move on.
Good riddance to bad rubbish. No amount of pathetic, begging emails will unbreak your heart, Toni. Besides, we know you're vulnerable right now, and you don't need to be seduced into to forgiving him. Add a filter that sends email from his address straight to the trash (put a Google on it for instructions on your specific email program, suckers). It gives a new definition to "taking out the trash," doesn't it? And it's a surefire guarantee that you'll never be tempted in a moment of weakness (read: while you're drunk and horny) to respond.