The break-up which may or may not have occurred in a shopping mall food court was not hideous because of the guy (he played the harmonica, left me notes in the refrigerator, liked the way I sometimes have a psychological lazy eye, went swimming with me, sent me home with bouquets of white peonies). Break-ups are just hideous because they exist. They are the absolute death of possibility.
Any break-up is this way.
Even when you find yourself laughing and/or hugging (for the last time).