Explanation: After breaking up, both boys and girls will cry a lot, so they always have to have tissues.
Love is one of the most powerful emotions a human being can feel. It brings joy, excitement, and a deep sense of connection. But when love ends, it can also bring pain, sorrow, and heartbreak. For those who have never been in love, the idea of a breakup might seem simple—just move on, right? But anyone who has ever truly loved knows that it’s never that easy.
If you’ve never been in love, you might not understand why people cry over lost relationships, why heartbreak feels so devastating, or why something as simple as a tissue box can symbolize so much. But let’s dive deeper into the emotional reality of breakups and why they hit so hard.
Why Breakups Hurt So Much
Love isn’t just about feelings—it’s a biological, emotional, and psychological experience. When you lose someone you love, you’re not just losing a person; you’re losing a part of your daily life, your dreams, and sometimes even your sense of self.
1. The Emotional Bond Gets Severed
When two people are in love, they build a strong emotional bond. They share memories, routines, and inside jokes. When a breakup happens, that bond is suddenly ripped apart, leaving a void that feels impossible to fill.
2. Love Changes the Brain
Scientists have found that love affects the brain similarly to addictive substances. When you’re in love, your brain releases chemicals like dopamine and oxytocin, which make you feel happy and connected. When a breakup happens, those feel-good chemicals suddenly disappear, leading to withdrawal-like symptoms.
Video : 6 Signs You Were Never in Love
3. The Pain Feels Physical
Heartbreak isn’t just emotional—it’s physical. Studies have shown that emotional pain from a breakup activates the same parts of the brain as physical pain. That’s why people say things like, “It feels like my heart is breaking.” It’s not just a figure of speech; it’s a real, measurable sensation.
Why Both Men and Women Cry After a Breakup
There’s a common stereotype that women cry after breakups while men just move on. But in reality, both genders experience heartbreak, even if they express it differently.
1. Women Process Emotions Immediately
Many women allow themselves to feel the pain right away. They cry, talk to their friends, and express their emotions. This helps them heal faster because they confront their feelings head-on.
2. Men Suppress Their Feelings—But Not Forever
Men, on the other hand, often suppress their emotions initially. They might try to distract themselves with work, hobbies, or even new relationships. But eventually, the sadness catches up with them. Many men admit that their emotions hit hardest weeks or even months after the breakup.
3. The Tissues Are for Everyone
The viral meme that shows a tissue box for both men and women after a breakup is a humorous way of saying that, in the end, heartbreak doesn’t discriminate. Everyone experiences pain, and tears don’t care about gender.
The Stages of Heartbreak Everyone Goes Through
If you’ve never been in love, you might wonder why breakups seem so dramatic. But people who have loved and lost go through a very real emotional process.
1. Denial
At first, it doesn’t seem real. You might think, “Maybe they’ll come back,” or, “This is just temporary.” The mind struggles to accept the new reality.
2. Anger
Once reality sinks in, frustration follows. Questions like “Why did this happen?” or “How could they do this to me?” run through the mind. Some people lash out, while others keep their anger bottled up.
3. Bargaining
People start thinking about what they could have done differently. They might even try to fix things with their ex, hoping to undo the pain.
4. Depression
This is where the tears come in. The loneliness, the memories, and the loss hit the hardest. This is the stage where those tissue boxes get used the most.
5. Acceptance
Finally, time heals. People start to move on, rebuild their lives, and maybe even open their hearts to love again.
Video : 6 Signs You Were Never In Love
What People Who’ve Never Been in Love Miss Out On
If you’ve never been in love, you might not understand why breakups are so painful—but you also don’t know the beauty of love itself.
- The Joy of Connection – There’s nothing like having someone who understands you on a deep level.
- The Highs and Lows – Love is a rollercoaster, but the highs make it worth it.
- The Strength It Builds – Heartbreak hurts, but it teaches resilience, self-worth, and the ability to love again.
Final Thoughts: Love Is Worth the Pain
For those who have never been in love, it might be hard to understand why breakups hurt so much. But ask anyone who has truly loved and lost—they wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. Because even though love can bring heartbreak, it also brings some of life’s most beautiful moments.
And in the end? Those tissue boxes are just a small price to pay for the incredible experience of love.
My Late Wife’s Presumptuous Sister Took Her Dress Without Asking and Damaged It – Karma Swiftly Dealt With Her
Jack is furious when his sister-in-law shows up to a family event in his late wife, Della’s cherished dress. But the final blow comes when she “accidentally” ruins it right in front of him. Jack holds back his anger, but karma has its way of delivering justice in ways no one expects.
It’s been six months since I lost my wife, Della, and some days it feels like I’m drowning in memories. Today was one of those days until karma decided to show up fashionably late to the party.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind a bit to last week.
It was supposed to be a happy day, the 45th wedding anniversary of Della and her sister Lina’s parents. Instead, it turned into a nightmare that had me wishing I’d stayed home nursing my grief with a bottle of whiskey.
I stood in the corner of the living room, nursing a drink and trying to blend into the wallpaper.
The chatter of family and friends washed over me, a dull roar that did nothing to drown out the ache in my chest. Every laugh, every clink of glasses was a reminder that Della should’ve been here, lighting up the room with her smile.
That’s when it happened. The moment that made my blood run cold and then boil in the span of a heartbeat.
Lina appeared at the top of the stairs, and my world tilted on its axis.
She was wearing Della’s engagement dress. The one I’d given her on the night I proposed, the one she’d treasured for years. It was a soft, flowing thing in a shade of blue that matched Della’s eyes perfectly.
Seeing it on Lina felt like a violation.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My fingers tightened around my glass as Lina descended the stairs, a smug smile playing on her lips. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Jack!” she called out, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Don’t you think this dress is just perfect for the occasion?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I say that wouldn’t cause a scene? That wouldn’t play right into her hands?
Lina sauntered over, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. “What’s wrong, Jack? Cat got your tongue?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “That’s Della’s dress,” I managed to growl.
She laughed, a sound like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, come on. It’s not like she needs it anymore. And now,” she leaned in close, her breath hot on my ear, “she can’t say no to me.”
Something snapped inside me. I was about to unleash years of pent-up fury when Lina gasped dramatically.
“Oh no!” she cried out. “I’m so clumsy!”
Time seemed to slow as I watched a wave of red wine spread across the front of Della’s dress. Lina’s eyes met mine, filled with mock innocence and very real triumph.
“Oops,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess I ruined it. Such a shame.”
I don’t remember much of what happened next. Somehow, I made it through the rest of the party without committing murder. But as I drove home that evening, my knuckles white on the steering wheel, I knew something had changed.
Back in our — my — empty house, I paced the floor like a caged animal. Memories of Della flooded my mind, sharp and painful. Her laughter, her strength, the way she always stood up to Lina’s bullshit.
“God, I miss you, Del,” I whispered to the empty room. “You always knew how to handle her.”
I could almost hear Della’s voice in my head, calm and steady. “Don’t let her get to you, Jack. She’s not worth it.”
But it wasn’t just about me anymore.
It was about honoring Della’s memory, about not letting Lina trample all over the life we’d built together.
As I collapsed onto the couch, exhausted and heartsick, a strange calm settled over me. I wouldn’t seek revenge; that’s not what Della would’ve wanted. But I wouldn’t stand in karma’s way either.
Something told me the universe had taken notice of Lina’s behavior, and it was only a matter of time before the scales balanced out.
Little did I know how right I was.
A few days later, I was mindlessly scrolling through social media, trying to distract myself from the gnawing emptiness in my chest, when a post caught my eye. It was from Lina, and it was… dramatic, to say the least.
“My dear friends,” it read, accompanied by a selfie of Lina with tears streaking her mascara, “I was robbed yesterday! They took all my cocktail outfits and branded clothes. I’m devastated!”
I blinked and read it again.
A laugh bubbled up in my throat, unexpected and a little rusty from disuse. Before I could fully process what I was reading, my phone rang. Lina’s name flashed on the screen.
I answered, curiosity getting the better of me. “Hello?”
“You colossal jerk!” Lina’s shrill voice assaulted my ear. “I know it was you! How dare you?”
I held the phone away from my ear, her tirade continuing unabated. When she paused for breath, I jumped in. “Lina, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Jack! My clothes, all my designer outfits, they’re gone! And I know you’re behind it!”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It was a real laugh, the kind I hadn’t experienced since Della died. “Lina, I hate to burst your bubble, but I had nothing to do with your clothes going missing.”
“Liar! Who else would do this? It’s payback for the dress, isn’t it?”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Lina, I’ve been home wallowing in my grief. I haven’t left the house in days. How exactly do you think I managed to orchestrate a theft of your wardrobe?”
She sputtered, clearly not expecting logic to enter the conversation. “But… but…”
“Look,” I said, a hint of amusement creeping into my voice, “I’m sorry you were robbed. That sucks. But it wasn’t me.”
“Then explain this!” she shrieked.
My phone pinged with an incoming message.
I pulled it away from my ear to look, and what I saw nearly made me drop it.
There, in living color, were photos of Lina’s missing clothes. But they weren’t in some thief’s lair or a pawn shop. No, they were being worn by homeless women on the street.
I saw a Gucci blazer draped over the shoulders of an elderly woman pushing a shopping cart. A Prada dress adorned a young mother cradling a baby.
I couldn’t contain myself. Laughter erupted from me, deep and genuine.
It felt foreign, almost painful, but God, it felt good.
“What’s so funny?” Lina demanded. “This isn’t a joke, Jack!”
“Oh, Lina,” I managed between chuckles, “trust me, karma works in mysterious ways.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I swear, Jack, if I find out you had anything to do with this—”
“You’ll what?” I cut her off, suddenly tired of her threats. “Look, Lina, I didn’t take your clothes. Maybe the universe decided it was time for you to learn a lesson about taking things that don’t belong to you.”
She gasped, indignant. “How dare you! I’m calling the police!”
“Go ahead,” I said, surprising myself with how calm I felt. “I’m sure they’ll be very interested in your theory about your grieving brother-in-law masterminding a charitable redistribution of your wardrobe.”
I hung up before she could respond, feeling lighter than I had in months. As I set my phone down, a memory surfaced: Della, rolling her eyes after yet another confrontation with her sister.
“One of these days,” she’d said, “Lina’s going to push too far, and it’s going to bite her in the rear.”
I smiled, raising an imaginary glass to the ceiling. “You called it, babe,” I murmured. “You always did.”
I thought that was the end of it. A bit of karmic justice, a much-needed laugh, and maybe a lesson learned for Lina. But the universe, it seemed, wasn’t quite done.
The next morning, I opened my front door to grab the newspaper and nearly tripped over a plain white envelope on the welcome mat. No address, no stamp. Just my name scrawled across the front in unfamiliar handwriting.
Curious, I tore it open. Inside was a single sheet of paper with three words:
“Don’t thank me.”
I stared at the note, my mind racing. Someone in the family, someone I didn’t know, or at least didn’t suspect, had taken matters into their own hands. They’d done what I’d only dreamed of doing, exacting a revenge that was as poetic as it was just.
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