Break out your hankies, boys and girls — Reese Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal have broken up forever! Us Weekly reports

After six months of on-and-off dating, the pair are kaput. “This is the harshest split they’ve had,” a source tells Us. “Reese told Jake it’s best they don’t talk at all.” Indeed, the costars stood apart and rarely made eye contact at the Rendition press conference [at the Toronto Film Festival]. They remained distant at the afterparty, where Witherspoon kept to herself and Gyllenhaal chatted with his mom and costar Peter Sarsgaard (sister Maggie’s beau). The next morning, they left Toronto separately — he headed to L.A.; he flew to NYC.

Now, I don’t consider myself a finger pointer — never have, never will. You might could call me a “truth proclaimer” or a “harbinger of rightness,” which is different from being a “tattle-tale” or “narc” or “back-stabbing lying whore.” I hold that distinction in the highest esteem. Really, if I could find somebody to make me a badge, I would. You could make even me one, if you wanted. Something small but authoritative, or a sash like the Shriners… well, okay then. Maybe another time. Yeah. Sorry. It’s just that I — Reese? Oh, yeah… um, it’s totally her fault. If she wanted to keep Jake she should have found a way to grow a penis. At least loaded up on Aqua di Gio and started on the weekly testosterone injections. Sometimes you just have to accept the blame in these kind of situations. Maybe you could have done more to save the relationship. Like, say, when somebody doesn’t want to make you a sash even though you work really hard and are totally awesome. For example. You. I’m talking about you. You don’t want to make me a sash and that’s why I’m breaking up with you. Go ask Reese Witherspoon what you could have done differently. And yes, of course it involves a penis. Doesn’t it always? I would think you’d know me better than that by now.