Breakups are messy. But mine?
\nMine involved cold cuts and public humiliation.<\/p>\n
After finally kicking my ex, Alex, out of my life, I thought I was free. But a week later, he showed up at my doorstep holding a grocery bag like some kind of sad, meat-based peace offering.Inside: a dozen eggs and half a pound of bologna.<\/p>\n
No note. No apology. Just a weird, greasy silence and a mumbled, \u201cThought you could use this.\u201d<\/p>\n
I took it, mostly just to shut the door without a fight.
\nLater, I tossed the bologna and made an omelet. End of story, right?<\/p>\n
Wrong.<\/p>\n
A few hours later, I ran into a mutual friend at a coffee shop. We chatted briefly, and then he said something that made my stomach turn:<\/p>\n
\u201cI saw Alex today. He was bragging that he bought you groceries because you were struggling to eat without him.\u201d<\/p>\n
I blinked.
\n\u201cHe what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Apparently, in Alex\u2019s warped little fantasy world, those $6 worth of breakfast basics were proof that I couldn\u2019t survive without him. He\u2019d even told people,<\/p>\n
\u201cShe looked so thankful\u2014like I saved her or something.\u201d<\/p>\n
Let me be clear: I didn\u2019t ask for help. I didn\u2019t need help. And I definitely wasn\u2019t rescued by a man whose idea of generosity was discount deli meat.<\/p>\n
So, I texted him just three words:
\n\u201cKeep the bologna.\u201d<\/p>\n
Moral of the story?
\nSometimes, the only thing your ex brings to the table\u2026
\nis exactly what he handed you:
\nfull of bologna.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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