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.
I Was Late to My Grandmom’s Funeral—When I Finally Got to Her Grave, There Was a Small Package with My Name on It
When Teresa’s grandmother passes away, she races across continents, desperate to say goodbye… but she arrives too late. Wracked with guilt, she visits the grave, only to discover a mysterious package left just for her. As Teresa navigates grief and love, she learns that some bonds transcend time, offering solace in the most unexpected ways.
When my uncle called that morning, I knew something was wrong before he said a word. His voice had this sharp, clipped edge, but I could still hear the strain in it.
A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
“Grandma’s gone, Teresa,” he said. “She passed last night.”
For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if my mind refused to process the words.
“The funeral’s tomorrow,” he added. “If you’re not here, we’ll have to bury her without you.”
“What? Tomorrow?” My voice cracked. “I can’t… there’s no way I can get there that fast!”
A shocked woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Then don’t bother,” he said curtly. “She’s gone, Teresa. We won’t wait for you… we can’t.”
I stood frozen, phone in hand, the sharp beep of the call ending pulling me out of my stupor. My uncle Craig, ever the practical and unyielding one, had spoken as if my grandmother’s passing was just another event on a packed calendar.
But she wasn’t just my grandmother. She was my everything.
A smiling old woman | Source: Midjourney
She’d raised me after my mom passed, back when I was too young to understand what death meant. Grandma became my world. She stepped into the role of mom, confidante, and teacher with ease.
Life with her was a steady rhythm of love and laughter, her warmth filling the void my mother’s death left behind.
The thought of not being there for her, of not saying goodbye, tore at me.
An upset woman looking out of a window | Source: Midjourney
I booked the first flight out, throwing clothes into a suitcase without even checking if they matched. I wasn’t even sure if I had suitable funeral clothing, either. Every second felt like a betrayal.
I couldn’t bear the thought of her being lowered into the ground while I was thousands of miles away, stuck in some airport terminal.
The plane ride was unbearable. I was unable to eat, my food tray just sitting there, the food getting cold and congealing. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t watch any of the movies or listen to music.
A tray of airplane food | Source: Midjourney
I was numb.
Memories of my grandmother flooded my mind. Her stories, her hugs, her quiet wisdom… I kept telling myself I’d make it in time, but when I finally landed and called my uncle, the funeral was already over.
“We couldn’t wait, Teresa. Don’t act shocked. I told you this already,” he said flatly.
A woman standing in an airport | Source: Midjourney
By the time I arrived at her house, it was empty, stripped of the life it once held. My cousins had cleared out, leaving behind traces of their rushed goodbyes. There was a half-empty water bottle on the counter, a crumpled tissue on the sofa, someone’s forgotten lipstick on the floor.
I stood in the doorway, letting the silence engulf me.
Grandma’s favorite chair was still by the window, the blanket she’d always kept on her lap folded neatly over the back. On the side table, an unfinished knitted sock lay abandoned, the lavender yarn still threaded through the needles.
A ball of yarn and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
I reached out, brushing my fingers against the soft fabric, and the tears came in a flood.
She had been working on this. Just days ago, she’d sat here, humming softly as she knitted, probably thinking about some old family recipes.
I sank into the chair, clutching the sock like it was a lifeline. Memories of her voice, her laughter, her love, rushed over me. The ache in my chest was unbearable, but I didn’t want it to stop.
This pain was all I had left of her.
An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When the sunlight began streaming through the window, I wiped my face and stood. There was one thing I still had to do.
I stopped at a florist and bought a bouquet of daisies, her favorite. The drive to the cemetery was a blur, my mind racing with all the things I wished I’d said, the moments I wished I could relive.
The grave was easy to find.
A bucket of daisies at a florist | Source: Midjourney
The fresh mound of dirt stood out starkly against the older, weathered headstones. My breath hitched as I approached, the reality of it hitting me all over again.
This was it. Her final resting place.
But something caught my eye. At the base of the grave, nestled in the dirt, was a small package. My name, Teresa, was scrawled on the paper in her unmistakable handwriting.
A package in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I picked it up, my heart pounding.
The package felt almost warm, as if her love had left a mark on it. I tore at the wrapping, revealing a folded note inside.
My dear Teresa, it began.
I know your uncle probably won’t let us see each other one last time. I don’t know where I went wrong with him… but he’s always been jealous of the bond we share. I need you to know this: Teresa, you are my love, my joy, and the light in the darkest of days.
I asked Rina to leave this package on my grave after I’m gone. This is so you’ll never be late again.
A woman reading a note in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I gasped.
Grandma had planned this? Had she known exactly how things would unfold?
And it made sense to me. Craig probably thought that Grandma was going to leave a whole lot of money to me, her house even. Not that I wanted any of it…
“Oh, Gran,” I muttered.
An old woman writing a letter | Source: Midjourney
Tears blurred my vision as I opened the smaller package inside. A gold wristwatch glinted in the sunlight, its face encircled by tiny diamonds. I turned it over, and there, engraved on the back, were the words:
Grandma and Teresa. Always and Forever.
I dropped to my knees, clutching the watch to my chest. The ache in my heart swelled to unbearable proportions. She had thought of me, even in her final days, leaving behind this symbol of her love for me.
A woman holding a watch in a box | Source: Midjourney
As I sat there, the pieces of her note lingered in my mind.
My uncle. His jealousy.
It all made sense now, the way he’d rushed the funeral, his brusque phone calls, the coldness in his voice. He’d never hidden his resentment, but to think that he’d taken it this far… refusing to wait even a few hours.
Still, as much as his actions stung, I couldn’t let them overshadow what I held in my hands. The watch wasn’t just an heirloom, it was a promise.
A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
It was the promise of a connection to my grandmother that time could never erase.
The cemetery was quiet as I stood by her grave, sharing memories, apologizing for being late, and thanking her for everything she’d given me.
When I finally stood to leave, I slipped the watch onto my wrist. It felt like a piece of her was with me, tangible and eternal.
A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
The house was still empty when I returned, but it didn’t feel quite as suffocating anymore. I stood in the living room, looking at the remnants of her life, her unfinished sock, the framed photo of the two of us by the mantel.
Moments later, the door opened.
“Teresa,” he said. “What are you doing here? Why bother to come when everything is over?”
“How can you ask me such a question?” I gasped.
A grandmother’s living room | Source: Midjourney
“She was old, Teresa,” he said. “What did you expect? That the old woman would live forever?”
“When did you get so cruel, Uncle Craig?” I asked.
“When did you get so self-righteous?” he spat.
Before I knew it, two men from a moving company walked into the house.
Two men standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m taking the furniture. And those expensive plates and vases. I’m going to sell them.”
“Gran will never forgive you for this,” I said simply, sitting down on the couch.
“Gran is long gone, Teresa. It’s time to move on. And don’t try to contest the will,” he said. “Gran would have given everything to me. I can’t wait to give Rose her watch. My mother would absolutely want her first-born granddaughter to have it.”
A cupboard with expensive crockery | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my sleeve down, hoping that Craig wouldn’t see the watch. I wasn’t going to hand it over. No way. But at the same time, I didn’t want to entertain Craig. He could take everything else.
A few months had passed since I left my grandmother’s house for the last time. Life had resumed its usual rhythm, or at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside.
The watch stayed on my wrist, its weight a constant reminder of her. Some days, I caught myself holding it, brushing my thumb over the inscription as if I could summon her voice.
A watch on a person’s wrist | Source: Midjourney
One evening, I made myself a cup of tea, Gran’s favorite chamomile blend, and curled up on the sofa with a blanket. The unfinished sock from her house now sat on my coffee table, neatly placed in a small knitting basket.
I picked up the knitting needles, my fingers still clumsy and awkward with the motions. She’d tried to teach me once, years ago, but I’d been too impatient to sit still.
A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“One day you’ll see,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “That knitting is like life. You just keep going, one stitch at a time.”
One stitch at a time.
A lavender sock and knitting needles | Source: Midjourney
Judy and her family get into the habit of saving money in a “family stash jar,” which is used for emergencies or family outings. But soon, she starts noticing that someone in the family has sticky fingers, helping themselves to the money. Judy has to figure out who it is and what is the reason for such dishonesty.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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