A big break up can have some peculiar affects on a man. I now have this strong association between things that led to my loss and a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel a bit like Alex in A Clockwork Orange. The idea of sleeping in late makes me feel gross. Causing mischief with my neighbors for the sake of confrontation seems asinine. Even little things like typing too quickly and spelling words wrong while chatting makes me queasy. And I quote Alex:

I woke up. The pain and sickness all over me like an animal.
Then I realised what it was. The music coming up from the floor
was our old friend, Ludwig van and the dreaded 9th Symphony.
Suddenly I viddied what I had to do, and what I had wanted
to do ó and that was to do myself in, to snuff it, to blast off
forever out of this wicked cruel world.

Such a cathartic process does feel like a rebirth at times. It's almost a privilege. It take a special person to inspire you to better yourself whilst in their company, but it takes a whole higher level of character for that person to inspire you with their absence.