Unbox You

UNBOX YOU CORP.

Heartbreak Recovery Tip #1

If someone ends a relationship using presentation software, we recommend taking several deep breaths before throwing the laptop.

Replacement laptops are not covered under warranty.

“There are countless ways to break someone’s heart. Mine came with transition effects.”

There are exactly one hundred and seventy-three acceptable ways to end a relationship.

Okay.

I haven’t actually counted.

But I feel like there should be a list somewhere.

Breaking up over dinner? Acceptable.

Breaking up over coffee? Slightly rude, but acceptable.

Breaking up over text? Cowardly, yet tragically common.

Even the classic, “It’s not you, it’s me,” deserves a reluctant nod for at least pretending to spare the other person’s feelings.

What should never be acceptable—

What should honestly be illegal—

Is ending a two-year relationship with a Microsoft PowerPoint presentation.

Yet somehow...

That was exactly what Ethan Matthews did.

“You’ll want to sit down,” he said.

I looked around the apartment.

“I’ve been sitting.”

“Right.”

He cleared his throat.

“This won’t take long.”

That should have been my first warning.

The second warning came when he reached for his laptop instead of my hand.

“You made notes?”

He smiled.

“I made something better.”

No.

No, he hadn’t.

He turned the screen toward me and clicked a button.

The familiar PowerPoint loading screen appeared.

I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because surely this had to be a joke.

“Ethan...”

“This is just to help organize my thoughts.”

“You made a slideshow.”

“It’s technically a presentation.”

“I don’t think correcting me is helping your case.”

The first slide appeared.

Why We Should End Our Relationship

Prepared by: Ethan Matthews

Revision 3.2

Confidential

I blinked.

“...Revision?”

“I wanted to make sure everything flowed.”

Everything...

Flowed.

Like our relationship had gone through peer review.

I stared at the screen.

Then at him.

Then back at the screen.

“I’m waiting for you to laugh.”

“So am I.”

He didn’t.

Which was deeply concerning.

He clicked the next slide.

Agenda

• Relationship Overview

• Areas of Concern

• Supporting Evidence

• Proposed Resolution

• Frequently Asked Questions

I slowly looked back at him.

“There are...FAQs?”

“I anticipated you might have some.”

“My first question is whether you’ve completely lost your mind.”

“I actually cover that later.”

He clicked again.

A pie chart filled the screen.

An actual.

Pie chart.

“This,” he said proudly, “represents our compatibility.”

I stared.

The chart had different colors.

Blue.

Green.

Orange.

Red.

One slice was labeled:

Shared Interests – 18%

Another read:

Communication – 12%

Then...

The biggest slice.

Unresolved Issues – 47%

“...Did you make percentages?”

“I estimated.”

“You estimated?”

“I rounded up.”

“You rounded up my flaws?”

“They’re relationship flaws.”

“Ethan.”

“Yes?”

“I cannot stress this enough.”

“What?”

“I hate everything that’s happening.”

He sighed.

“I expected some resistance.”

“You expected resistance?”

He clicked again.

The next slide faded in with one of those dramatic swirl transitions.

Swirl.

He had chosen swirl.

Expected Emotional Responses

✓ Denial

✓ Anger

✓ Bargaining

✓ Crying

A little arrow pointed to:

Current Status: Anger

I blinked.

Then looked at him.

Then looked back at the slide.

“You made a flowchart for my emotions.”

“I wanted to be prepared.”

“I think you’re the one who needs professional help.”

“I know this is difficult.”

“Difficult?”

I laughed.

A sharp, disbelieving laugh.

“Ethan, you didn’t break up with me.”

“I absolutely did.”

“No.”

I pointed at the screen.

“You presented quarterly emotional earnings.”

“It seemed efficient.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

I clapped once.

“You’ve managed to make heartbreak feel like a shareholders’ meeting.”

He looked almost...offended.

“I spent a long time on this.”

“I can tell.”

“I even paid for premium templates.”

I stared.

“You paid money...”

He nodded.

“...to dump me.”

“I had a free trial.”

“Oh, well that makes it so much better.”

He looked genuinely confused.

“I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

“The effort?”

“Presentation matters.”

I stood so quickly the couch cushion bounced.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I hope your next girlfriend dumps you in Excel.”

He frowned.

“Excel isn’t really designed for presentations.”

“Exactly.”

He watched me grab my handbag.

“Where are you going?”

“To find literally anyone else on Earth.”

“You haven’t seen the conclusion.”

I froze.

Slowly.

Painfully.

I turned around.

“The conclusion?”

He smiled.

“It’s only three more slides.”

Three.

More.

Slides.

I laughed again.

This time because I was dangerously close to crying.

“No.”

“Piper—”

“No.”

“I included action items.”

“I AM NOT A TEAM PROJECT.”

“I just thought—”

“No, Ethan.”

I walked toward the door.

Behind me, I heard him call out—

“You forgot your charger!”

Without turning around, I raised one finger into the air.

“I hope PowerPoint crashes forever.”

Then I slammed the door.

Outside, the cool evening air hit my face.

For one glorious second, I convinced myself I’d imagined the whole thing.

Then my phone buzzed.

A notification.

From Ethan.

Subject: Breakup Presentation.pdf

Attached.

He emailed it.

Of course he emailed it.

I stared at the attachment.

Then laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because if I didn’t laugh...

I might actually commit a felony.

I hit delete.

Then emptied my trash folder.

Then blocked his email.

Then blocked his number.

Then blocked him on every social media platform I owned.

I even blocked him on LinkedIn.

It felt excessive.

It also felt deserved.

As I shoved my phone into my bag, I looked up at the evening sky.

“Well,” I muttered to absolutely no one.

“There’s no way my year can get worse than this.”

The universe, as it would later turn out...

Took that as a personal challenge.