I've always been impressed with the way my sister handles breakups. Over the years, she's dated more than her fair share of dudes who started out promising but turned out to be real jerks.
Yet each time a relationship ended, she managed to conduct herself with a staggering degree of civility. You know, like a grown-ass adult. There were tears, of course -- but no shouting, no jewelry throwing, no nasty phone calls, no keying of cars or shit-talk at work, and certainly no heap of personal belongings tossed into the front yard.
I asked her once how she could avoid the temptation to be angry and vindictive, and she said her method was actually easier because she never had to look back and regret any of her actions. Which is admirable and makes a lot of sense, really.
I don't think I'm cut from quite the same cloth. Because the one time she let me get involved in picking up the pieces, I picked up everything her ex had left at her apartment and sold it on eBay. We used the money to buy our mom the biggest Mother's Day bouquet we've ever given her, compliments of Dickhead Jones.
But that's how I roll.