You think you’re handling the breakup just fine.
You’re not.
I told my friends I was cool. That it was mutual. That I was “focusing on myself.”
Then I went home and spent four hours stalking her soft-launch with someone named Vihaan.
This was not the plan.
The plan was to bounce back stronger. Be mysterious. Unbothered. Hot, even.
Instead, I was rewatching our old Instagram highlights and Googling “Is it normal to lose your sex drive after a breakup?”
The Weirdest Part of Breakups?
It wasn’t the loneliness. Or the sudden urge to cut bangs (yes, men feel that too).
It was how quickly my body stopped feeling like mine.
Touch didn’t feel good anymore.
Solo play felt mechanical. Like something I should do, not something I wanted to do.
I tried to push through it. Went on a few dates.
One ended with me fake-laughing at a podcast recommendation and lying about how early I had to wake up.
Another ended with me asking if we could “take it slow,” which she heard as “he’s not over his ex.”
(She wasn’t wrong.)
Then One Night, This Random Reel Changed Everything
2:12 AM. Hoodie. Dim lights. Me, half-scrolling, half-spiraling.
And then I saw it: this sleek black object rotating on screen. No loud music. No gimmicks.
Just a voiceover that said:
“Feel like yourself again.”
It wasn’t some goofy ad with vibrating flames or “male enhancement” claims.
It was subtle. Confident. Like it knew exactly who it was for.
And even though I’d never bought anything like that before, I clicked.
Because honestly? I missed feeling like someone who wanted things.
It Arrived Three Days Later. Quiet. Unmarked. No Judgement.
The box was clean. Simple.
It didn’t scream “he’s down bad.” It whispered “he’s trying.”
I didn’t rip it open immediately.
It sat in my drawer for a day.
Maybe I was nervous. Maybe I didn’t think I deserved pleasure yet.
But the next night, I gave in.
What Surprised Me Most
Was how gentle it was. Not just in feel—but in the way it let me take my time.
There was no rush.
No expectation.
Just me, exploring what actually felt good.
For the first time since the breakup, I wasn’t performing.
I wasn’t thinking about how I looked, or how I sounded, or what someone else wanted.
It was quiet. Intentional. Mine.
And somewhere in that process, I remembered what it felt like to want again.
Not someone.
Just… touch.
Energy.
Connection.
Even if it was just with myself.
The Days After Felt Different
I won’t say I became a new person overnight.
But I walked differently. Sat differently.
Started flirting again. Not to prove a point—but because I wanted to.
People noticed. Friends said I looked “lighter.”
One even asked if I’d started therapy.
(I hadn’t. I probably still should. But this helped more than I expected.)
I didn’t use it every night. But it was there when I needed it.
Kind of like a playlist that always hits.
Not showy. Just reliable. Familiar. Yours.
And Then—Plot Twist
I made a dumb little reel.
Just a soft flex of the “self-care routine” I’d curated.
Protein powder. Candles. A book.
And, very briefly, the massager.
I didn’t tag anything. Didn’t say what it was. Just gave a wink.
The next day, my ex DM’d me:
“Is that what I think it is?”
I replied:
“It’s whatever helped me move on. Better than journaling. And quieter than therapy.”
She didn’t respond.
But she’s been watching my stories ever since.
And honestly? That’s more closure than any conversation could’ve given me.
TLDR: I Didn’t Need to Be Fixed. I Just Needed to Reconnect.
Edge wasn’t about performance.
It wasn’t about bouncing back or “getting revenge.”
It was a reminder.
That pleasure can be soft. Personal. Uncomplicated.
And that confidence doesn’t always come from being seen—it comes from feeling yourself again.
So if you’re post-breakup, in your sad hoodie era, wondering why your body feels like someone else’s…
This helped me find mine again.
And if it gets your ex’s attention in the process? Well. That’s just a beautiful little bonus.
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