How many years have you spent thinking about her? You’ve tried everything from dating apps to hanging out with new friends, anybody to replace her, but nobody’s presence has ever matched, not even close. The way she held you, kissed you, made you feel like the only man in the world. The jokes you shared are still etched in your mind, and you can’t bring yourself to get rid of your old phone with all of your old text threads with her. No one knows that at your lowest you go through those old texts and feel instantly better. She always makes everything so much better, life worth living.

In a rash effort to get your life in order and exist like a normal person, you stopped keeping tabs on her social media, unfollowing her everywhere. You regret it so badly. She’s private everywhere now and you miss her stories so much, watching her live her best life while you waste away your own. You are stuck replaying the same old memories, over and over again, any hope of ridding her from your mind a distant, futile memory. So imagine your joy when you discovered you were still able to access her Venmo account. Your last, uncut lifeline to her.

Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t really use the app, herself. In fact you can’t find a single transaction in which she personally sent anybody money. On the contrary, there’s tons of guys sending her money. The notes read things like “nails” “bag” “spa trip” “hotel” “french laundry” “boat” “investments” you can only imagine what her bank account looks like, and you expected nothing less.

So how do you fit into all of this? How do you even compete, lurking ex vs all these guys who won’t stop paying her? Before you can even think about it, your thumb hovers over the send button. You stop yourself and add an extra zero to the amount you were originally going to send. And another. The feeling that envelopes you as you watch your transaction go through is far beyond euphoric. It’s just like the old days when she would take all the money out of your wallet before she was off, leaving you with nothing, and yet everything you could ever wish for, all at once. It was an unspoken agreement that your money was hers, forever and always. You worked and earned, just to please her.

Why should that end just because she dumped you? Before you can even think about what you’ve done, a single message pops up on your screen, from a number you don’t recognize and yet you know exactly who it is. One word, no thank you, just a brilliant, triumphant, orgasm-inducing “more.”