Curing heartbreak with falafel

Packing is a lot harder than I thought it would be. It actually physically hurts and I just want to lie flat on the floor and cry whenever I find something which reminds me of us. I Christmas card addressed to the both of us, a print out of flight information, a receipt from a restaurant... Every little find hits me like a slap in the face and leaves me angry.
Yes, angry. I feel so royally pissed of that I hurt in this way. That I thought we were in it for the long haul, that I thought I had found my rock.
He's not my rock.
He might become a friend, but as far as trusting goes that's pretty much gone. So yes, I'm pissed off, hurt and mad that it didn't work out. And I'm furious at myself for being so deeply affected by it.

Having insane period pains and an all-mighty hangover doesn't help either. Cheers, universe.