How being laid off is like being broken up with

I've been dumped between three and five times in my life. The first two breakups remain in question as to who ended it, because we were both in 5th grade at the time and simply stopped talking/forgot each other existed.

I've been laid off once. Five days ago. The experience, still in progress, sent me reeling right back to those high school and college days when each of those three pimply faced, khaki-wearing dudes who couldn't grow beards told me that it just wasn't working out...

The breakup/layoff starts even before it begins. You notice your boss/boyfriend is acting distant. Acting strange and not talking about your future anymore. Not involving you in activities/projects as much as he/she used to. In both cases, you're probably in denial.

Then the day comes. You're happily working in your office/watching TV in your shared apartment. All of the sudden, your boss/boyfriend says, "I need to talk to you."

They tell you some form of "it's not you, it's me,"/"it's not you, it's the economy." They tell you they want you out NOW, and if you're lucky they even give you a box. Then you're forced out of the place where you've spent most of your time for the past however many years, without as much as a chance to say goodbye to your coworkers/your boyfriend's dog. You get angry and say things you don't mean. You realize that they've already changed the lock/closed your email account. You ask how long ago they made the decision and no matter what the answer is, it makes you feel worse.

You wonder if your boss will offer to let you keep the book you borrowed/ if your boyfriend will let you keep the Ikea couch you went splitsies on--it's more your style, anyway. You obsessively check Facebook/LinkedIn to see if they've changed their status to "single"/changed their company employee information.

When you tell your friends and family, any of the following metaphors can be used to describe either situation equally well: Getting the boot, being kicked to the curb, being taken out with the trash, getting sandbagged.

Both make you want to drink, binge eat, punch somebody, write angry and passive-aggressive Facebook posts. And both elicit the same responses from friends, family and acquaintances alike: "it's a blessing in disguise," "you'll find something/someone better," "he/that job wasn't good for you, anyway," and, of course the go-to, "when one door closes..."

The advice, trite as it sounds to you at the time, is spot-on. The end of a personal or business relationship is the perfect time to start fresh and upgrade your life. And one day, you'll cross paths with the person or people involved again and hopefully you'll have great news to tell them. And secretly you hope they don't.

I've always thought the only way to get over an ex is to find someone new. I haven't found another job yet, but I'm hoping the same is true for both.

But neither one, I imagine, gets any easier the more times it happens.