Breakups are a horrible thing to have to go through. Partially violent (nobody dumps me without getting a kick in the shin), post-trauma they require a lot of immediate lifestyle changes; priorities, eating habits and quite often affect your circle of friends/family. His mother’s cooking, the dog…(that comma is very important) long gone….

Sometimes you’ll try to stay friends but then it’s awkward to know how talkative you can be; ‘how are you today?’ is tenaciously transparant and ‘how’s the love life?’ is glaringly obvious. Then they move on and are asked by their new love interest: ‘why are you still talking to your ex?’. Slightly awkward friendship is now over and you have to deal with that tidal wave of Ben & Jerry’s/Sailor Jerry’s that was inevitably heading your way.

It really is OK. Your friends are there to tell you how fat the new girl is and how you’re better off without them. The second part, at least, is true because nothing’s more misery-inducing than being with someone who doesn’t want to be there.

But now comes the hard part and the key to this blog post – moving on.

In this beautiful, inescapable age of social media, getting over someone has never been harder. Things like movies, songs, food and places you pass daily, already remind you of those fun times you had together (between crying in the bath on the phone to your mum). The last thing you need is to see his face/name/new hair cut/drunken photos on Facebook.

You’re happily at work, eating your 3-bean salad, when BOOM – an Instagram photo of his feet reveals itself on your newsfeed, standing in your favourite spot, together with a stranger’s beautifully-polished toenails – who has time for pedicures, seriously?! He’s moved on, upgraded and already deemed her worthy of our secret place, while I’m sat here picking bits of rice and beans out of my computer keyboard.

Who needs that in their life?

As usual, I found myself reading Cosmopolitan and feeling bitter towards the future generation; who are about to benefit from an invention that could have saved me months of suffering.

Here is KillSwitch. An App worthy of knighthood. If only it had been introduced sooner.

You don’t have to delete, untag or lose any permanent social history. It simply (and automatically) gathers posts, statuses, photos and videos tagged with your ex’s name and puts it all into a folder hidden deep within the depths of your Facebook albums, both quickly and seamlessly. According to the App page: ‘this folder can be laughed at later or reinstated of the relationship is rekindled later’. A pretty nice solution if you ask me.

Saving any unnecessary psychosis, public or private, since 2013. You lucky, unlucky-in-love devils.

Remember ladies it’s cliché but – the wrong man isn’t worth your tears and the right one won’t make you cry.

PS. Unless they ask you to chop onions, also revealing my inability to manoeuvre acuminous kitchen cutlery, mixed with my unique ability to bleed through plasters and general fainting tendencies.

PPS. It was endearingly feminine.