A friend of mine and his longterm girlfriend just broke up in a fiery blaze of destruction. They were the obnoxiously in love type, always all over each other even years after their first encounter when the rest of us knew that same routine must have gotten old. But now, with summer ending and the real world approaching like a Mongolian horde bent on destruction, their relationship has ended, and soon there will be an intruder cascading through her Great Wall.
What has transpired since has been so painstakingly immature and unmistakably vile that even I, a self-professed asshole of a man, can’t stand it anymore. Maybe I’ve “matured,” maybe I’m just old and crotchety, but this shit has got to stop. The open sharing of sex tapes, “anonymous” social media posts, fake Instagrams, group chat lambasting that makes the TFM comment section look like a eulogy, and involvement of every person with the same Greek letters on the front of their house. Enough is enough.
Breaking up sucks. When you’re stupid enough to catch serious “feelings” before you’re old enough to buy a beer, or have an idea where the careers, family, and life itself will take you, you’re an idiot. Or go to BYU, I guess. These “relationships” are largely meaningless in the grand scheme of things, a blip on someone’s radar they’ll lie to their spouse about if they can even remember themselves. Oh, you met at a jersey party? Nice, that’s the sort of love story they make movies about. Somebody get Nicholas Sparks on the phone.
The damage you do to her, or yourself, in the ending can last, though. Naked photos might help decide our presidential race; just ask Melania. Who you bump uglies with decades earlier means nothing, the viciousness you display afterwards can last forever. Don’t share photos or videos. Don’t spread rumors of diseases and deep seeded insecurities. Don’t discuss the personal confessions you were told in moments of weakness. Respect her the same way you’d hope she would, and the way you do yourself.
Nobody will care who jerked you off after formal sophomore year. A lot of people will care whose life you tried to ruin, who has a restraining order against you (happens way more than you think), who’s Draymond Green’ing your member all over the Internet, and the things you say you wish you could take back.
College relationships don’t matter for the vast majority of us, so don’t let something so insignificant define what people think of you or the person you were in a relationship with. So next time you contemplate ruining someone’s life, just remember that level of pettiness is reserved for high schoolers and will only make you look bad in the end..