Breakups are hard on everyone. Especially the bad ones. The ones that provide a disappointing capstone on otherwise great relationships. Those are the ones that really crush the heart, that hurt like a bitch, that keep you up at night for weeks wondering what you could have done to avert disaster. If the Pink Fairy had a penny for every person who came to him, asking to forget about their previous relationships, he would own every penny on the planet.

You’ve been having a tough time sleeping and getting any rest at all in the weeks following your break up. Not today, though. You awaken feeling strangely refreshed and energized. You haven’t felt this way for a while, so it’s entirely foreign to you. You practically bounce out of bed.

You’re not sure what happened to improve your circumstances, but one thing that you know for sure is that your ex stayed out of your dreams last night. Instead… You pause. You are pretty sure that there was a vivid dream you had just before waking up. But you can’t remember it. Not all of it, at least. Just fading bits and pieces, like a bright pink neon sign.

You dismiss it. You’re not going to let that get you down today. Your heart still hurts over what you’ve lost, but today you’re determined to move on. You have a strange desire to head to the gym, one that you’ve never felt before, but you feel like nothing wrong can come of it so you head off for a workout.

It’s easier than you expect it to be. The repetitive motions lulls you into a state of mindlessness, a trance that is welcome after weeks of overthinking. The burn of your muscles is a strange pleasure, one that you decide you want to come back to. Had you been more cogent, you would have noticed your body tightening up as a result of your workout, your muscles growing, both in size and definition, your face becoming more handsome, your body becoming the very visage of Adonis.

But no. You’re too busy enjoying the blankness that comes with working out. And afterwards, you almost feel like you’re floating on a bed of clouds, so much so that when you see your new body, it doesn’t even occur to you to freak out. When you get home, you have dinner and slip into bed for another restful night of sleep.

Slowly, as the days go by, you end up thinking less and less, your body getting used to that almost-trance state evoked by your workouts. Even breathing seems to be hypnotic to you now. There are times when you just lean on the walls in the shower, staring mindlessly forward, your cock twitching between your legs.

Eventually, your libido returns. With a vengeance. It happens one day. Every rep that you do increases the steamy haze in your head, making thinking more difficult, but also making you hornier. By the time that you’re done your workout, you’re practically throwing yourself at other hunks in the gym.

By the time that the first guy takes you home to fuck what remains of those brains out of your empty little muscle head, your ex is but a faint memory. One that leaks out of your cock as the hunk slips his cock into your eager hole.

You’re certainly not overthinking anymore, but whether you’re living your life to the fullest is another question entirely. Whatever potential for greatness you once had is now gone. But you’re definitely feeling quite full of cock right now, and maybe that’s all that counts. To your addled, ravaged mind, it is the only thing worth thinking about.