As a regular, well-adjusted adult, I have the social and emotional skills to be able to deal with break ups. That being said, sometimes you go through a particularly nasty rupture, and it becomes a fixture in your interactions with your friends and in your bi-weekly therapy meetings. Okay, maybe that’s just me. Let me just start at the beginning.

Karen Spinoza.

She was a rock cellist that I met in Kansas City last October while traveling cross country to review hot dog stands. The connection was instantaneous; it was a classic meet-cute waiting for frankfurters and root beer. 3 months later we rented apartments in the same neighborhood. Now,  8 months later, I’m thinking I should have found a cheaper place.

In the search for some kind of salve to lessen the blow, I’ve searched for all kinds of media to binge, and I stumbled across Meg Leder’s Museum of Heartbreak. Our protagonist, Penelope Marx, takes to the creation of a “museum” housing all the knickknacks, odds, and ends that remind her of heartbreak during a pivotal year in her life. After some light prodding from literally everyone in my life (especially my coworkers who have read this book), I’ve decided to create one in the hopes that it’ll serve as therapy to my shattered soul.

Behold:

Let’s examine these relics:

• Flower Pen-Plastic and fabric, October 18^th, 2016: How could I not keep the pen that she wrote her email address down with the night we met. Definitely ignored some warning signs with this one. First of all, she definitely did not pay for this pen before snatching it out of the restaurant gift shop. Secondly, she may have tried to stab me with said pen when I finished my food before hers. I may still have the scar. In other words, flower pen — or funeral bouquet?

• Mix Tape – Audio, November 20th, 2016: Okay, burned CD, mix tape, whatever. I’m a firm believer that when you get a mix tape from someone, things are getting pretty serious. Sure, I hadn’t heard from her in over a month, but I decided to throw caution to the wind and really swing with the fences with this mix. She called me after receiving it and told me between giggle fits that this was the funniest collection of garbage she’d ever received, and that she liked someone with a sense of humor. But make no mistake, this CD was fire.  A sophisticated collection of whale songs, bag pipe music, and a little country was all brought together by the greatest band of the last ten years — Nickleback. Her choice to label this “Wrong #2” when she left it at my apartment cut pretty deep.

• Compass Necklace – Metal and Rubber, December 31st, 2016: Landing a permanent gig as a cello player for an upscale doggie day care, she decided to move into the city. Fearing that a distance more than a few square blocks would kill any chances of us becoming an item, we decided to look for places in the same general area. After renting ridiculously expensive apartments in a a neighborhood I definitely can’t afford, we decided to have a nice dinner which I also could not afford. Realizing that I’d be paying off my recent credit card bills for the next decade, I snuck out to a quarter machine and purchased this little item for a cool 50 cents. Sher smile said she loved but her eyes were screaming.

• Robot – Plastic, 3D printed. February 18th, 2016: The one is kind of a funny story. She gave me this is a birthday present. It was not my birthday and I hate the color green. She told me it was a fidget spinner. I still try to use it for that purpose, one that it was clearly not made for. I’m currently trying to spin it in front of some coworkers. I’m not sure if their faces are those of disgust or pity. Maybe a mix of both.

• Origami Crane – Paper, March 8^th, 2017 – I am not an artistic person, so any sort of handicraft that I dedicate myself to has to be for a special occasion. I mean, in my world, making this origami crane was as big as dropping THE “L” word. And by “L” world I clearly mean “really, really like.” Love is for the weak. I may have prefaced giving her the crane with that little rant. Maybe that’s why she crumpled up the first one I made. I tried my best, Karen sob.

• Terra Cotta Skull – Terra Cotta, Epoxy. May 25^th, 2017: You know that moment when things are going really badly with a significant other, and you decide to do the reasonable thing and break up? Yeah, we didn’t do that. Instead, we planned a vacation. To San Antonio. Kids, don’t plan a vacation with the person you should be breaking up with. San Antonio was where it all came crashing down. I mean, what was that halibut doing in her carryon? And why was she so defensive when I asked? The conversation may have ended with me getting slapped with said halibut. Anyway, we spent 3 days in an air conditioned motel room watching Netflix on my laptop and eating take-out pizza. I didn’t get a single puffy taco or a picture with the Alamo. I think she felt bad and bought me this skull before we boarded our flight home. Despair.

• The Card – Paper and Ink, June 8^th, 2017: After San Antonio, the writing was on the wall. Quite literally. I came home from work one day to find she’d mostly moved out, and found this note taped to the kitchen wall. You could say it was pretty unambiguous.

Harsh.

And that’s it. Less than a year in my life compressed into a cardboard diorama. You know, everyone was right. Laying everything out has really helped me dig at the core of what was really bothering me. I feel so much better af – OH MY GOSH KAREN PLEASE COME BACK I’M A WRECK WITHOUT YOU WHY DID YOU HAVE TO HURT ME SO BAD OH I’M ALONE SO SO ALONE

(Editor’s Note: At this point, our contributor fell to the floor in a fetal position. We could not make out his words through the sobbing and snot bubbles. He has since been granted a sabbatical to work on some self-exploration and self-discovery. We wish him the best. Don’t forget to check out The Museum of Heartbreak by Meg Leder, available as an extended excerpt until July 31st, and be sure to check out the other fantastic books in our Summer of Self-Discovery line up!)

Disclaimer: This story is completely fabricated, but the benefits of reading The Museum of Heartbreak are not.