Breaking Up Can Get Downright Ugly

Was it something I said?The last time I had a good break-up, I gathered up all of the stuff my cheating ex-boyfriend had ever given me, threw it into a garbage bag and donated it to charity. It’s not maybe as shocking as spewing it across his lawn while screaming obscenities at his closed windows, but he lived with his parents and I’m not really the sort of person to fill a person’s car up with mud or anything. That’s a level of magnitude way beyond anything I could ever dream of doing. Besides, that sort of shit makes you look bonkers, and if I’ve learned anything in my 29 years on this planet, it’s this: always tip your waxer properly. Okay, always tip your waxer properly AND avoid doing anything that makes you look like a complete psychopath especially in the eyes of an ex. Because that is the stuff that legends are made of.

Legends like Amy.

I worked as a server with Amy at an outdoor bar and grill and when I first met her, I’ll admit, I thought she was a total bitch. Her face was stuck in a perpetual sneer and while the rest of the staff had banded together in an us-versus-them sort of mentality that you sort of have to get if you want to survive the brutal Saturday night crowd, Amy looked like she’d probably shove you UNDER the grill. And like it. She rubbed all of us the wrong way instantly.

Throwing Poo At Me Is Not OK

I happened to be having a party that night at my house after work and while it was an open door policy, I feverishly hoped that no one mentioned it to Amy. She might show up and cut me or throw poo at me or something. But she showed up, predictably, because one of the guys thought she was hot and dragged her along and I made every effort to be nice to her. Why not? I reasoned. Well, Amy must have somehow sensed that I was a person to be nice to, because the next thing you knew, she wanted to be my best friend. Every joke I told was HILARIOUS and everything I said was worth of a repeat and suddenly it was like I was Queen Shit of Shit Mountain in her eyes. Whatever, I reasoned, not thinking too much of it, and we all got along pretty well for quite awhile. Amy and I became tentative friends, although I admit that I never trusted her.

Amy, following in the footsteps of so many young waitresses before her, began to date one of our managers, whom I had liked very much (although not that way) because we were both single parents but their relationship seemed, well, odd. She wasn’t entirely enthused by his children and was very unhappy by his relationships with their mothers. She and I began to hang out more outside of work, forming study groups as we were both in line to finish our bachelor’s degrees. We’d chat about work and life and all sorts of things, and while she’d occasionally drop bombs about what her boyfriend thought of me, I grew to think of her as sort of a friend. Until she took her neediness to the next level.

And, Queue The Drama

Amy and our boss tearfully broke up one Friday night and she showed up at the grill, openly weeping and screaming about miscarriages and how he wouldn’t speak to her now. As the grill began to get busy she moved from the back of the grill to the manager’s office and back again like a pissed-off ghoul until finally she disappeared. Hoping that she’d gone home to get some rest, I tended to my tables, and her boyfriend (my boss) and I were barely on speaking terms any more, and I wanted no more Amy Drama.

Closing time rolled around and I was counting out my bank with my boss when I saw her car pull into the parking lot. My heart sank as he asked me to stay. I couldn’t imagine why someone who clearly outweighed me by 50 pounds needed my protection, but I agreed. Suddenly she jumped out of her car and onto his where she began jumping up and down on the hood and the roof of the car, screaming his name. Apparently, he’d been ignoring her calls. Bad move, dude.

He called the police.

When she was informed of this, she ran into the grill, where she began physically beating on him, all 95 pounds of her, managing to break the pizza cook’s glasses and punch me in the face at the same time. Unsatisfied by his reaction now, she then went into the back and began smashing plates. While I was slightly annoyed because it meant that I would have to stay back and clean up, I admired the hell out of her display of anger. That took BALLS. Clearly, he was going to get the message now.

Howling Banshee Of A Woman Scorned

In her victory lap, she grabbed some more plates to lob at his head and then back outside to jump on top of his car once more, denting the shit out of the hood. By this time, the police were there and even they looked mystified as to what to do with the howling banshee of a woman scorned. We all just stood around her as she then got onto the ground and punched that for awhile. Girlfriend was pissed the fuck off. And I was glad that I’d never dated her.

I don’t actually know what happened between the two of them because I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. I’d already gotten punched in the jaw and I really didn’t need any spare plates thrown at my head. And truthfully, I didn’t care. The show was pretty intense and kind of awe-inspiring. That was a hell of a break-up, man. I never had anything that compared to it, which, in hindsight, I’m pretty happy about.

What’s the worst break-up you’ve experienced?

Toy With Me About Toy With Me


  1. That’s really thinking at an imrpsesvie level

  2. Oh Rose, that’s awful. What an ASSHOLE! I’d help you if I were any closer.

  3. I just had a bad breakup. :(

    I wanted to have vengance on him, but I didn’t. But that spraypainting his car looks pretty good right now.

    Especially since he broke up with me via TEXT.

    And, a week later, was dating a girl from Tennessee.

    Who lives IN Tennessee (We live in Washington State)

    Who he’s never MET.


    Anyways…yeah. I like this article. -__-

  4. Wow, perhaps we need to start a course on how to break up with class.

    Anyhoo, winner time! Congrats go to….BlowJoy – Aunt Becky and I believe we may found another soul mate. Revenge can be sweet ๐Ÿ˜‰

  5. My fiance and I had just driven back to Michigan after spending Christmas in Florida with my family. On our way through the state, we stopped at his parents’ house to visit. When we left, his mother said, “We love you, April. Make sure he takes care of you.”

    Next, we stopped about a quarter of a mile down the road at his brother’s place. And his brother told me pretty much the same thing.

    Another quarter mile down the road, he stopped the car, looked at me, and said, “My family loves you, but I don’t.”

    We returned home (to the house my father had bought for us) and played like everything was okay until I went back to school. When I was safe back in my other apartment (a couple hours away), I told my sister who cried harder than I had when she heard the news. And when my mom found out, her first question was what had I done wrong.

  6. Hmm, after reading these, I’m not sure my story is really all that bad, but it does seem to be fairly unique.

    Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away…I had been dating this guy off & on for ages, and thought that he was THE ONE. He was sweet (when he wanted to be), kind (when he wanted something), attentive (when he didn’t have another date). You know, all the things you think you want when you’re also still excited about the idea that you’ve gone away to school and that you have a fake ID.

    So he is at my kitchen table one morning after a wonderfully romantic date (or a booty call), slurping the milk out of a bowl of cereal, and I’m flipping through our little hometown weekly paper that someone that I needed a subscription to so I wouldn’t be homesick (not a chance). As I’m turning pages, a picture caught my eye – gee, that guy looks familiar. Why, no wonder! It’s a picture of the love of my life. And his fiancee.

    “Hey, JimBob. (Not his real name – c’mon, I am NOT such a loser that I would actually date JimBob.) Your picture is in the paper.” Really? What for? “Yeah, really. Caption says you’re engaged.” Oh, yeah. “Oh, yeah?” Didn’t I tell you?

    Yeah, seriously.

  7. It was my first serious relationship. A guy I was dating was going off to college, leaving me behind.

    We break up over the phone just two weeks before he left. That night he goes to a party and gets wasted. Then he proceeds to tell all his buddies that he just dated me for the practice in preparation for college sexcapades. He then tells them I that I gave the world’s best blowjob. (The farthest we went)

    After he got drunk, he went to pee in the corn field (this is where our paries were in rural WI), and never came back. His friends found him the next morning, passed out in a pool of vomit, with his pants around his ankles. That mental image made me get over him remarkably fast. :)

    Needless to say, the next time I saw his friends, ALL of them asked me to go out sometime. Shocking.

  8. Wow. I am so fucking boring.

  9. When the health dept called my apartment looking for him, I pretty much knew it was over.

  10. Worst way to figure out we need to break up:

    Years ago, my then BF’s best friend organized a group trip to Disney World. The friend had a timeshare condo there, and he enjoyed filling it to the brim with pals for his week each year, arranging airfare for everyone (who paid him back for the tix), and letting them use his condo and tickets to the parks for free. Nice friend!

    Then there was my boyfriend. The first night of the trip, he decided that I was too old for him (I was 24. He was 34.) and proceeded to spend all his time hitting on the two 20-year-old girls on the trip. Whenever I tried to join the conversation (saying offensive things like, “Hey, look! They have a Winne-the-Pooh ride!”), he gave me the dirtiest looks I’d ever seen. I politely waited until we were alone to ask him what the fuck he was doing, and if there was a new rule that I wasn’t allowed to speak. He said he had no idea what I was talking about.

    This went on for days. One of the 20-year-olds was largely ignoring him (preferring to hang out with her own much younger, less creepy boyfriend), but the other was lapping up the attention, giggling and chatting and touching, retelling stories all the funny things “she and him” did each day (forgetting that I’d been there, too). As we walked around the parks, he’d spend all his time giggling with her, then try to sit next to me and hold my hand on the actual rides. Whenever I pointed out that this bothered me, he told me I was crazy. Finally, I turned to the girl, said (okay, probably shouted), “You can have him!” stormed away, and when alone, burst into tears.

    This made for an interesting afternoon. It turns out that Disney World is “the happiest place on Earth” because, if you cry there, the staff freak out and hide you away until you look happy again. Really. As soon as the first tear hit my face, nine Disney employees surrounded me and took me off to one of their offices until I’d calmed down enough to appear in public again. Then I rode the Disney buses back to the condo to relax for the afternoon.

    Now here’s the bad breakup part: When the gang returned that evening, my BF took me to a back bedroom and explained that everyone had decided to ignore me. He thought it would help if I apologized to his girl. “The poor thing!” he said. “She thinks you hate her!”

    “Smart girl!” I said. “What did she expect would happen when she spent all her time flirting with my boyfriend?” He went on to explain that she couldn’t help herself, she just needs attention, she’s so young . . . (Remember, this is a guy 10 years older than me, telling me to feel sorry for a girl 4 years younger.) I really should feel bad for hurting her feelings . . . “And nobody feels bad for hurting my feelings,” I pointed out. “Not even my boyfriend. Why am I the one who has to take care of everyone else’s feelings, when mine don’t matter at all?”

    Rather than seeing any error in his story, he just looked perplexed, as if it were a great mystery of the universe. “I don’t know,” he said. “That’s just the way it is.”

    For the next three days, I was stuck with this guy all the time, telling me over and over that I had to apologize to his girl, that I was awful for hurting her feelings, that I was ruining his trip . . . I couldn’t go home, because his best friend was holding my plane ticket. I couldn’t go anywhere else, because the friend had my tickets to all the rest of Disney. Oh, and speaking of the friends: When he said they were ignoring me, they weren’t kidding. They actually wouldn’t look at me. They’d look past me instead. They held private-sounding conversations as if they were alone, and once, when I was sitting on the couch, one even sat on me, as if I were part of the furniture. I was in a voodoo curse, and the only person who still new I existed was the boyfriend who kept badgering me to apologize to his other girlfriend, to tell her how wrong I was to complain. I had no one else to talk to because I didn’t know anyone else in the state of Florida, I’d already seen that Disney employees were disturbingly focused on looking happy, and I didn’t feel capable of making any new friends. So I spent the rest of the week imprisoned in the condo, covering my ears and screaming when the boyfriend’s bitching got to be too much, dreaming of the time when I could return to the real world of sane people and be a real person again.

    When it was time to go home, the friend gave me my plane ticket while he was handing out everyone else’s. I rode in the airport shuttle with everyone else, sitting in a back corner so that nobody would sit on me. My airplane seat was next to the boyfriend’s, and he was my ride home from the airport, but once I got back to my own apartment and my own car and my own state, I was free!

    This was 12 years ago. I haven’t seen the guy in years, and I’ve had no word on whether he’s still hitting on girls too young to buy their own drinks. I don’t really care, at this point. I’ve dated much nicer people since, and I’ve never met a voodoo cult like that again. I’m still not a big fan of Mickey Mouse, though.

  11. I don’t really have any great break-up stories. After the break-up, I delete their number and everything and try to forget all about them. Now that I’m married to a great, hot, sexy man, it is fun to run into exes and introduce them to my amazing husband. It makes me giggle on the inside.

  12. My worst break up was with my ex fiance. We had been together for 3 years and had a very volitile relationship. I finally realized the only way to end it for good was to move on. So we broke up. He made me promise not to fall in love with anyone else just to get him out of my apartment. About a month later a new guy I was seeing (now hubs) stayed the night. I was woken up the following morning with rocks being thrown at my 3rd floor window. I went down and he threatened to put a video of us on the internet that he made without my knowledge and had my face in it but not his.

    He later stopped my guy on his way out and told him that I would be his again, and that I always went back to him so he might as well get lost. Yeah…how’d that work out for you ass?

    The reason he was aware of my sleep over…he spent the night in his car waiting on me to come home the night before. Oh yeah, did I mention this individual is now a cop. Makes you feel safe, huh?

  13. Back in grad school, a boyfriend broke up with me because his psychiatrist told him too. But she was probably right.

  14. I was a recently divorced, newly-single mom, and I met this “great guy.” Oh, we were going live happily ever after. He was going to be a great step-dad, we’d have more kids, it was going to be great.

    So he liked to watch the occasional “movie” – with or without me. Whatever. It was still gonna be WONDERFUL.

    So what if he liked to go out with the guys. And go to strip joints. And enjoy lap dances.

    Um, yeah.

    It was still OK. Until the time I borrowed his car and found the Polaroids of some nasty chick giving him a blow job.

    I returned his car and never spoke to him again.

  15. My worst break-up was the divorce from my first husband. I got tired of his lying and bullshit. Anyway, he called his mom and wanted me to talk to her, because she could talk sense into me. Then while I was moving stuff out he was watching and making an extra copy of our wedding video for me. Then he left the state with no word as to where he was, which would have made filing for divorce a bit of a challenge. Luckily his sister emailed my brother the address. Oh and he threatened to leave me with all of his credit card debt if I didn’t take half of it. I did, because it was worth 6,000 to get rid of the fucking asshole. Best money I ever spent!

  16. After dating a boy for a very long time, I FINALLY broke up with him and had the naive notion that we could still be friends. A few weeks later, I agreed to have dinner with him, but told him the time would have to be flexible. So when I got home and called him, he CRIED* about how I apparently didn’t adhere to the plan that didn’t exist. He said I was selfish and irresponsible. So I backed off. A few weeks later, I mentioned that I had plans in passing, and he was so bold as to ask me what my plans were. I was going to see a movie. That he wanted to see. And apparently should have invited him. How selfish of me! He cried again. This led to a huge explosive fight and the last words I spoke to him were “Fuck you. I’m done with this.”

    A few weeks later, he calls me and asks if I am still going to help him pack his things up to move out of state. OBVIOUSLY NO. So for two days he wrote me emails about what an awful person I am and how the only reason I tried to be friends with him was to get what I wanted from him and never give anything in return. I guess my youth wasn’t enough.

    *I am not against a man crying. But crying because your ex doesn’t do what you wanted is a pussy move.

  17. My worst break-up story? When I was younger, I decided I didn’t want to date this guy anymore. (Mind you, he was creepy and always smelled bad. We’re talking masturbating into a puppet at night. And he was planning out our future lives with kids. Yeah, just general creepiness.) While we were walking out from school, I turned to him and just told him I didn’t want to date him anymore. I think he started crying. We’d only been dating a month. I felt horrible, but it was…yeah, just weird.

  18. WOW. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say those alleged miscarriages of Amy’s were a blessing in disguise.

    Hmmm. Worst break up? I would have to say the PRE-breakup was the worst in this case. I found him jacking off on my toilet while I had been showering only a week and a half into the relationship. It ended shortly after that. I couldn’t shake (no pun intended) the image from my mind.

  19. I havent really had any bad breakup stories. Even my divorce was relatively easy (for me anyway). I did come up with a brilliant idea years ago when my friends boyfriend was cheating on her.

    When he was away for the weekend on business, we cleaned the place out of her stuff. I packed up all the food and stuff from the fridge except for a litre of soda, which I heavily laced with laxative. Then we took all the toilet paper and paper towels and were on our way… I still laugh at the phone call when he complained about us even taking the paper that was on the ROLL. I dont think that he figured out we had done the laxative thing, but the fact that he called about the TP issue makes us think that he was irked about that enough to call and complain about it that he did have some issues.

  20. This is very long, but it was an awwwful complicated break up.

    Chapter 1:
    I suppose that my most recent break-up is my worst. Mostly because it lasted for… five months.
    See, I was with him for almost four years, and we lived together for three. I loved the boy. He started talking to this friend of his online, who I tried to be nice to because I didn’t want to limit his friendships because I was worried. But the worry never went away. It got worse when she met us in Chicago and stayed *in our hotel room*. They went out to the bars (where I wasn’t quite old enough yet), and didn’t get back until 5 am. She then came to visit us at home. They were out very late. I demanded to know what he had been doing, and how he felt about her. I figured I could at least get out the clean way if he liked her. Just pack up my stuff and go.
    But no. He denied caring about her at all, even as a friend.
    That’s when he started showing me random text messages she’d send him. Things like “Slept in my car last night, woke up to some guy with his pants down pressed against the window.” Even our friends noticed he was obsessing over her.

    Chapter 2:
    I had a falling out with my family in March. I asked him to come home so that I wasn’t alone, and he came home in a fit. Said that my mother was a crazy bitch, and by the way, he thought we should break up.
    He gave me every reason in the book.

    Chapter 3:
    Then I found out that he cheated. I smacked him. Hard. More than once. I beat him as best I could and called him every foul name I could think of- not necessarily because he cheated (that I could’ve just never spoken to him again for) but because he lied.

    He started trying to take my friends, and getting angry that I blocked him on facebook. He asked me to call him/email him/etc.

    Chapter 4:
    Then the girl moved into his house. Did I mention she lived across the country, and moved to be with him? He wanted me to apologize to her for “being crazy”. AND he wanted to be present for the removal of the rest of my stuff.
    He called after four months, and told me that they were engaged. Oh yes. Engaged. He wanted me to be at their wedding reception, because I meant a lot to him. Obviously, right?

    Chapter 5:
    Then, on my birthday, he called me. It was the first year in the four that he remembered. Unfortunately, he *hadn’t* remembered. He and his fiance’s car had broken down and they needed someone to get them. I laughed at him, wished him luck, and hung up. MY BIRTHDAY.

    Not long after that, he called me from Arizona to ask me to take care of his cat. While he was out of town introducing his fiance to his mother. He had left the kitten at home with a small bowl of food, hoping it would last.
    I did, for the record, feed the cat. Because it was helpless. But I told him that if he *ever* asked me to do anything for him again, I would find a way to make his life miserable.

    Chapter 6:
    I moved out of state. He still calls, but I have wised up! I’m gone. And I’ve reclaimed my breakup, asshole.

    The End.

    PS: His parents sent me a letter that said how much they loved me. For christmas. *wicked grin*

  21. I came home from work to find my ENTIRE APARTMENT had been cleaned out by my boyfriend. I didn’t know we were breaking up but I kinda got the hint when I opened the front door and found nothing in my house. That’s not exactly true. He left a few things behind in his wake: the bed he thought I screwed somebody else in, a vase and the food that had been in the fridge (motherfucker took the actual fridge). He also took my phone, my toothbrush and absolutely everything else.

    My response was to drive to the store, purchase a phone and enough champagne to give a blue whale a buzz and then invited my sister over for a Fuck Him Anyway Drink-fest.

    Then I might have slept with his brother.

  22. I’ve never had a bad breakup. I’m fucking BORING, dude.

  23. You know, the best part of The Breakup is not that we broke up, spent four months making each other miserable and fighting (sometimes physically), and just when I started to move on, suddenly he came back and got on his knees and asked me to take him….

    It’s that three months later, he broke up with me for the same reasons, and five days later was dating someone else.

    My revenge was hooking up with not one, but two of his friends. And every other guy who had made him insecure. Then again, his revenge is that he’s now dating an ex-friend of mine.


  24. ((Sorry this is so long))

    So back when I was using a fake ID to get into bars, I found myself on the east side (where the only trashiest of bars are located along with strip clubs) at a real dive of a bar. But the 21 and older guys were plentiful and the only thing the owners really cared about was if I was tall enough to slide some money over the top edge of the bar to pay for my drinks.

    I’m pretty sure I was somewhere near 19 when I was getting loads of drinks, and shots sent my way by various men. It was heaven. Anyway, somewhere near my 5th or 6th shot that’s when I see him. He was hot because he was wearing a Nine Inch Nails long sleeved t-shirt and had long dark hair. (I had pretty low standards)

    So, I went on the prowl and managed to impress this guy enough that he and I sat at a table and talked about whatever drunk girls talk about when they are wasted. (I don’t remember). We sat there for a few hours and he kept buying me drinks. As soon as the cup was empty, he would call the waitress over and BAM! another drink was in front of me. (I may have been alternating between White Russian’s and Jack & Coke’s)

    So 2am rolls around and that’s when the wet t-shirt contest starts (the girls who win always takes off their wet t-shirt and is totally topless) and that’s when the nights drinks were catching up with me. I felt a rumble in my tummy and barfed on the floor between him and I.

    It wasn’t just a barf, it was a barf, barf, barf, barf, barf. . . .I had a continuous barf almost during the whole wet t-shirt contest. Once I was done barfing he just handed me a napkin and then we picked up our conversation right where we left off. Clearly, he was impressed.

    So, not long after the barfing incident he asked me for my phone number. Usually, when at bars, I gave out my fake name along with a fake phone number but for some reason, I actually gave him my real information. (Drunk and stupid?)

    Naturally, he calls me the very next day. He wanted to see me so I gave him directions to my house (stupid!). *I feel the need to mention that the east side was a good 2 hours from where I lived and he lived somewhere near the east side establishment*

    So anyway he comes over to my house (still lived with parents) and he puts on a good show for my parents and he kept nagging me to go out somewhere so that we could be alone. I refused and my friends showed up shortly later and we all went riding around.

    ((So anyway this went on for about 3 weeks))

    Eventually I got sick of him coming around (I still hadn’t kissed the boy! and had barely held his hand!) and told him that he should stop visiting me. He whined and cried and I agreed to let him go cruising with my friends and I. Well he turned into a major JERK when we were cruising around and my friends got into another car full of other friends. So now he and I were ALONE for the first time and I was freaking out. *Technically, we were riding around along a very busy road stopping and talking to friends along the way*

    So it was during this time that I remembered how he was really bent out of shape about the wet t-shirt contest and how he was offended by girls who do stuff like that along with how lesbians are totally in the wrong and how it’s really wrong that some girls are lesbians and that’s when it hit me. I told him that the reason I was having a hard time committing to this relationship was because my best friend was more than a best friend and how she and I are lesbians who are in an open relationship. She sometimes sees other girls and I sometimes see other guys. Sometimes her girlfriends gets together with her and I and we have threesomes. I explained how she’s not into guys at all so it would never work between him, my best friend and myself.

    And since that wasn’t going to work, that he and I should just end it.

    So, his car was at my place (lived with parents), and he was practically crying and asking me to take him back to his car. So, not wanting to be alone with the creep, I had my friends meet me somewhere where he and I could get in the car with them and we could all go back to my house to drop him off at his car.

    So, we make it to his car and he gets out and I explain that I should probably go inside and explain to mom what was going on. Well, both my parents are actually in bed asleep!! (This was the very first time they went to bed before I came home!) So, I figured that if they were in bed, they must not be worried so I just went back out with my friends and we stayed out till about 2am.

    Well, I come home and mom is on the couch, the lamp is on and she’s looking right at me. (This was one of the rare nights that I didn’t drink all night long so I’m confused) She looks so upset she looks like she is about to cry and she’s shaking a bit.

    So I asked her what was wrong. She told me that Boy had called and Boy had basically told her everything about the lesbian stuff. *I grinned* He told her that he really loved me and he was so concerned for my safety and health. *I started laughing* He told her that SHE DID NOT LOVE ME ENOUGH because if she actually loved me I wouldn’t be a lesbian. *I got angry. Really Angry*

    So, I sat down and told mom about everything that happened and how the guy creeped me out and how I had tried avoiding him and telling him not to come over but he never left me alone so I felt that I had to do something more drastic so that he’d get the hint.

    Anyway, the next morning, I called and apologized (mistake?) for handling things the way that I did but told him that I just wasn’t interested and wanted him to cease all contact.

    Then he started yelling at me. Apparently, he was good with computers and threatened to delete my name from existence from some master list of everyone in the United States. (good then I shouldn’t have to pay taxes) He threatened to slash my tires. He threatened to set my parents house on fire. I just said “Good-Bye” and hung up. I haven’t heard from him since.

    And all that lesbian stuff was completely made up! I have never kissed a girl or been in a relationship with a girl or even wanted to be in a threesome with other girls (or a threesome at all).

  25. I was dating a guy who dumped me in his blog with a single sentence that said he was “going to conserve [his] energy for someone more awesome”. He then made a blog post public in which he talked about me and concluded that he would never date someone as conservative and Christian as I was, which as all my friends will testify is a bullshit reason. He then went on to agree with a friend who commented that conservative, Christian girls were always “uptight, judgmental and frigid”. All this came mere days after he made jokes about us having babies together, and when I called him on his cowardice, he claimed to have done it for the “lulz” and also that it WASN’T a totally passive-agressive way to dump someone. If he were going to be passive-agressive, he would have “taken [me] to dinner and left right after we ordered”.

  26. My gay ex-boyfriend broke up with me on my birthday, then presented me with my gift, which consisted of two bicycle lights and the Batman soundtrack. Worst birthday ever!

  27. That is the most bat-shit crazy thing I’ve ever heard!
    While I am no stranger to being scorned by men, I quietly parted ways and then snickered years later as their lives unfolded into an unhappy mass of shit.

    I have a friend though, who actually went to couples’ therapy BEFORE marrying her idiot husband. She acutally pushed him out of a moving car once! They still got married and today they are miserable! Why do people not just cut their losses and move the fuck on?

  28. my worst break-up story, though no where near as good as that one!

  29. Wow. These stories are awesome!

    Mine is the story of legends. I was living with my boyfriend for almost a year when he invited a friend from work to hang out with us one night. She was nice, we got along fine but she spend most of the night hanging out with him (I am not the jealous type). A few weeks later she calls kind of drunk and wants to come hang out with us. My boyfriend, a coworker of mine and I were just leaving the bar and were going to have a little after-party anyway so sure, come on over! She arrives and they spend about an hour outside, ‘smoking’ (I really am not the jealous type obviously, because this is ridiculous!). When they come back he goes to sleep (‘migrane’) and she leaves. She immediately starts texting him that he should ‘get his shit together before he calls her again’. I decided that enough was enough and I called her from his phone. She proceeded to tell me that they were dating and that he had told her that I was his roommate.

    Needless to say, I have too much respect for myself to deal with this crap. I tried to make it work for about a week, figuring out if he needed time and space to figure it all out, but when he took her to Atlantic City and told me it was a work event, that was the final straw. I moved out and took almost everything that was in our apartment with me (his stuff too). When I came to pick up the last few things that were mine, I basically just dumped the contents of shelves, drawers, etc… onto the floor. I even took the TV while his new roommate was watching it. It felt petty, but awesome.

  30. My fiance broke up with me a week (a WEEK!) before the wedding. He came over to pick up all his things, so as he was leaving I started chucking crap at him…my favorite item was the hard back bible he always kept in the drawer next to the bed. I don’t remember what I shouted at I threw it, but I remember leaning as far out of my bedroom window as I could (I was on the 2nd floor) and clocking him square in the forehead. One of my neighbors was out at he same time and took off running as my fiance hit the ground. I guess he thought I had finally lost it or something.

  31. My first real boyfriend in high school went away to college a couple hours from me, while I was at home finishing my senior year. Typical situation, we thought we’d be able to maintain the relationship and it just went to shit. I was miserable at home without him, and I couldn’t handle hearing how much fun he was having without me. Then in typical 17 yr old fashion, I got a crush on another guy, but didn’t act on that because I’m not an asshole. Until me and the bf’s mutual friend filled me in that said bf had had this sheisty girl friend of his sleep over in his bed with him. I don’t know if they did anything or not, but that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back so I broke up with him. He took it terribly. For A MONTH, I continued to let the ex come over and “talk about stuff” because I felt bad, and it always turned into him just crying and begging for me back and sobbing “WHY, WHY?!” until I would make him leave. Eventually I started dating that other guy and so then the ex just cried and cried about that. One day I finally told him, enough is enough, say what you need to and then leave and do not call me until you’re sane again. He agreed but then right before he left he asked “…Can we at least have break-up sex?” WTF. Sure, after a month in which I have just listened to you act like the biggest pussy ever and am dating someone else who I’m completely infatuated with. Sounds like a great time.

  32. Elizabeth says:

    Which break up horror story would you like to hear? I’ve got a list. A very long list.

    I was in a long distance relationship with this guy and I was supposed to be spending the upcoming weekend with him. My parents were going to drive me down as they were going to visit some friends in a nearby town, drop me off for the weekend and pick me back up on the way out. Well the guy decided he would shut off his phone off 2 days before I was supposed to be there. I assume he expected me to get the random hint that he didn’t want me to come and just stay 6 hours away. Then after a few days he’d turn back on his phone, make up some BS story and I’d fall for it. Well instead of staying away we made the trip anyway. I showed up. Oh yes. I showed up at 3 AM. I rolled under a locked apartment community gate in my pink polka dot pajamas and banged on his door. For 20+ minutes. That was after I stood there very quietly and heard the girl inside. Finally he opens the door and just stands there staring at me. After the fighting and yelling and throwing of the ring. I went downstairs and straight to the biggest rock I could find. See. He’d just traded in his old corvette on a fancy new car. All the while my mother and father are staring in horror from the parking lot.

    There’s also another story about me finding txt messages on my boyfriends phone where I kick in the bedroom door and proceed to throw the cell phone at his head. But that’s for another day.

  33. My ex broke up with me on the day of my grandfathers funeral. After the funeral, I called him and he broke up with me. Because his mom thought we weren’t ready for a serious relationship. We were 23.

    I wish I were joking.

  34. i dont have any crazy break up stories, but i do admire my best friends mom for asking me if i wanted her to slash my ex-boyfriends tires when he broke up with me a day before her daughters wedding…

  35. I think the worst breakup I’ve ever been through is the one I’ve been going through for the past three months. He wants to see other people- but doesn’t want me to- he wants to date someone else- but PROPOSED to me- he keeps telling me that she’s just chasing after him- but then won’t talk to me for days on end (presumably because he’s with her). My head is dizzy with it and I can’t even blog about it because I don’t know what is happening enough to blog about it. I need someone to smack me and talk some sense into me, but I can’t even talk about it. Except anonymously on the interwebz, of course.

  36. My shitty boyfriend in high school had a problem with breaking up with me, then dating someone else (often the same night we broke up) then calling me weeks later and wanting to go out. I know stupid me…I know. Finally, after a few times this happened I got my head straight, fucked his best friend and left for good.

  37. Stephanie V says:

    I broke up with a guy in October 2008, because he cheated (amongst other things) In December 2008, he decided I was cheating on him (after we broke up) and slashed at least one tire on anything that moved in my driveway, He cause over 3G in damages and we are STILL IN COURT fighting over the restitution. He got on the stand, admitted to slashing my tires, said he was sorry but that he didn’t think he should have to pay. PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN.

  38. Uugghh, how do I not make this a novel? Okay, I had a 2-yr relationship with this guy. He was fucking weird. He was twice my age when we met (17), had some kinks (feet, pantyhose-him wearing, well an exhaustive list would take waaay too long) was ridden with MAJOR guilt (about everything, I guess) and pretty emotionally and mentally abusive. I wasn’t “allowed” to wear makeup or shorts in public, but “had” to slut up for him everytime we got it on. Forget guy friends, even if I had known them since diaper-days. Hell, he even accused me of sleeping with my chick friends (which I did. Later.) Super-controlling. I was young and very impressionable. At one point, it got physical. Basically, he wrapped his hand around my throat, accused me of being possessed, and gave a nice tight squeeze. That same night, I waited until he went to work and called my mom. She sent her boyfriend and two of my friends from highschool (one if whom I am now happily married to! Bonus!) with a truck to collect me and my stuff. We loaded every last possession of mine into the truck in less than an hour. I was soooo tempted to take his record collection with me, but eh. Why invite further contact? And, since he’d recently been accusing me of sleeping with my bestie who’d moved to Florida, the note he found when he got home went something like – “By the time you read this, I’ll be on a Greyhound to Florida. You accuse me of fucking _____ so much, I figured I’d go see what it’s like.”
    It was a crazy time that you couldn’t pay me to go through again, but I’m no worse for wear and I learned A LOT from all that shit. That crazy bastard definitely broadened my sexual horizons, and for that I thank him. Crazy bastard.

  39. Years ago I found out a dude I was seeing was boinking other girls. Well, I was boinking other guys, too, but that’s not the point. Anyhoo, I was sick of his coming over at night and then acting like he didn’t know me in public the next day. At a crowded house party he ignored me all night, so I started flirting with this other D-bag who just wanted in my pants. It was clear my ex was not liking that one bit, and the more he drank, the more flirty he got with me again. I told the Dbag to go down to the basement bedroom, turn off the lights, take off all his clothes and get him bed and I’d be down in a few minutes. He eagerly ran away, and then I told my now-randy ex to wait fifteen minutes and come find me in the dark basement bedroom where I’d be waiting naked for him. Don’t say a word… I just needed his touch.

    And then I beat it the hell out of there.

  40. Lady Lover says:

    I’d tried getting together with him days before the concert so I could break up with him and give him the tickets to find someone else to go with, but he was always busy. So, three hours before the concert, I broke up with, offered him the tickets… and wound up going with him because he started whining about how much it sucked to show up alone. I really wanted to go see these guys, anyway. Talk about six hours of HELL. All he wanted to do was pretend we were still dating (because his friends were there, which I hadn’t known about when I agreed to this insanity). I tried to leave four times, but he physically would not let me go, and by the time the concert ended my dad couldn’t come pick me up. Since I’d driven myself to his place (woo, new license!) I got back there, he was more dramatic and begged me not to leave, and I drove off to the nearest McDonald’s, where I called my dad again and said that he had to come pick me up because I was crying too hard to drive anymore.

    Needless to say, an attempt on my part to maintain friendly contact was met with animosity and more hurt, so we’re not on speaking terms anymore.

    Four years later, he still talks about how I broke his heart and lied to him. I still remember he spent the entire night making sure he broke mine too. [Siiiiigh] He was more of a girl than I was, I swear.

  41. Oh the stories I could tell of the woman who sent dead fish to everyone in the office.

  42. Just out of high school, I worked in a small office for awhile. An assistant at the office (penthouse model looking type), who had a bf, was apparently bonking the boss….anyway she traveled with the boss often and while away her bf sent her roses. She returned from running an errand to find the heads cut off the stem of every rose in the vase. The boss was done with her apparently. It was a strained week at the office and she did not last the week there. The funny part….she flew home with the vase of stems, carrying it on the plane (this was in the early 80’s) and the heads of the flowers in her suitcase.