Facebook knew we'd broken up. I dunno how.
I'd emailed my mum and a couple of friends but I'd never listed anything under that stupid "Relationship Status" tab.
We'd dated for a while, sure, but kissy-huggy-gushy photos and public proclamations of love aren't really my thing.
In the sweep of immediate heartache I became a little paranoid. I wondered if maybe Facebook's all-seeing algorithms had somehow bugged my Skype, or even computed the sudden melancholic streak in the music I was pumping in my apartment.
A light would flash at Facebook HQ: "Forget the menswear advertisements and ads for Hotels.com. Jack Tame's an 80s baby in the first stage of a break-up."