breaking up the "right way" the wrong way

Sitting in a Tims, knuckles deep in donuts, I spent the better part of an afternoon trying to convince my friend that she hadn't committed any crime.

It's been no real sweat of her perfectly shaped brow, she hasn't lost any sleep or found comforts in too-much-food. She's been going about things as if nothing even happened. None of it. Not just the break-up, but the relationship itself. In light of that, ever since the day she cut him loose, she has been on a 5-star, all expenses paid guilt trip. And for what?

"I just feel like I did it wrong, you know?"
No. I really don't know. There isn't any right way to do it, just like there is never a good time, or a perfect rhetoric to use.
"And I didn't even give him a good reason!"
You didn't have to. It's not a job. He wasn't employed as your boyfriend, he wasn't paid by the hour, nor was he offered a salary. You didn't need to give him two-weeks notice before quitting the relationship, and you also don't need a reason for terminating his contract – because there was none. No contract. Nothing in writing. No possessions to divide. No kids to bribe one way or the other when the house is sold and the lawyers paid.

Move on with your life. He'll move on too. Eat your donuts and drink your coffee and be happy because you did nothing wrong by way of default. There is no "right way" to tell a boy who loves you to ef oh, so by the laws of reason, there is no wrong way either. There isn't. And there is no such thing as a unicorn, or too many tacos, or too few bad decisions to be made when you're young, and impressionable, and single in a big city.

The right way aint real, smurphy. Go out tonight and get on with it, already.