I Just Broke Up With My Ex Ariana Grande

Okay, so maybe Ariana Grande and I weren't, like, *officially* a thing. But in my head? Totally. We were vibing.

And let me tell you, breaking up with her has been... liberating? Hear me out.

The Seven Rings (Of Responsibility)

First of all, the schedule. Girl's busy. Like, intergalactic pop star busy. I mean, who has time for that?

Suddenly, my weekends are free! Hello, spontaneous pizza nights. Goodbye, agonizing over outfit choices for imaginary red carpets.

I'm not saying Ariana isn't worth dressing up for. But sweatpants are just...easier.

The High Pony Problem

And the hair. That iconic high pony? Majestic, sure. But talk about pressure!

Imagine constantly worrying if your own hair meets the acceptable ponytail altitude requirements. Stressful, right?

Now I can rock a messy bun without feeling like a complete failure. Freedom!

Thank U, Next...For My Wallet

Let's be real. Dating a superstar? Expensive. Think premiere tickets, lavish dinners, and maybe even a small rocket ship to the moon (hypothetically).

My bank account is breathing a huge sigh of relief. It's like, "Thank U, Next...credit card debt!"

Suddenly, that new video game doesn't seem so out of reach. Priorities, people!

The Constant Paparazzi Watch

Imagine having cameras follow you everywhere. Grocery store? Paparazzi. Dentist appointment? Paparazzi.

Suddenly, my average Tuesday just became a worldwide event. Not my cup of tea, really.

I prefer my trips to Target to be relatively undocumented. Thank you very much.

My Unpopular Opinion: Single is Sweet

Look, I'm not knocking Ariana. She's amazing. Talented. And probably smells like vanilla and rainbows.

But sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality. At least for me. Maybe.

Being single? It's underrated. It's about doing what *you* want, when *you* want.

Embracing the Me Time

No more compromising on movie night choices. Rom-coms? Documentary about bees? All me, baby!

I can finally finish that series everyone's been talking about. And eat ice cream straight from the carton. Without judgement.

It's a beautiful thing, this newfound freedom. A truly beautiful thing.

So, Yeah, We Broke Up (Sort Of)

So, that's the story. My totally fictional, but emotionally resonant, breakup with Ariana Grande.

Don't get me wrong, I'll still bop to her music. And secretly hope she writes a song about me. (Just kidding... mostly.)

But for now, I'm enjoying my single life. And the freedom to wear sweatpants whenever I darn well please.

And Maybe, Just Maybe...

Maybe this means *I'm* the next pop star. Hey, a guy can dream, right?

Probably not. But at least I'll have my own high ponytail. On my own terms.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some pizza to eat. Peace out!