I un-friend-zoned this guy once. During the first 4 weeks we were dating, he told me about how he was going to marry me, make me have his children, tried to force me to wear a string, started naming our future children, and also wanted to tattoo my name onto his chest. He couldn’t afford it, so he carved my name onto his arm with a knife instead. To this day, he still has my name there.
So, she and I had been having issues for about 2 years. It started out slow, like we’d fight once a month over stupid little things and sometimes big things. I figured it was normal growing pains of a relationship after a year. It kept getting worse though. She wanted to fight over every single little thing. I eventually told her I was going to get her an iPhone for her birthday. As a college student, I couldn’t afford a new one, but I wanted to get her a nice used iPhone 4 since the 5 had already come out and I could afford one.
Well, she freaked out asking if I thought she wasn’t good enough for the iPhone 5. These are the kinds of little things she wanted to fight about. If I told her I loved her 5 times that day she’d be upset that it wasn’t 6 times. I kid you not. Well, finally I’m fed up with it. So, I end up getting mad one day and just going home since I had a quiz to study for and some exams. I told her not to talk to me for a few days and let me figure things out on my own. That wasn’t good enough for her though, as she chose to keep emailing me and calling me and texting me. She messaged my siblings trying to find out what I was doing at all times (despite not living at home and them not knowing).
Finally, Sunday rolls around. I’m sick and tired of getting emails and texts and whatever. I end up finally picking one up to tell her to leave me alone because I hadn’t in a day or so and I was tired of my phone blowing up. I answer and say, “Hey.”
She responds, “coltsblazers, I think someone is chasing me.”
Then she hangs up. So, what would you do? Would you drive the 30 minutes out to her house to find her and make sure she’s, okay? Would you call the cops and give all her information, description, address, etc?
If you said yes, then you did exactly what I did. I started getting really creepy texts from her cell phone. Texts asking me, “DO YOU WANT HER BACK?” “SHE LOOKED LONELY.” I’m terrified that they’re going to kill her, beat her, rape her, all of the above. I’m driving 80 MPH on the back roads trying to get to her house from my school. I get a call from the cops asking me if I thought it, was a prank. All I could say was, “God, I hope not.”
I get to her town and I’m looking all around for her. She finally calls me and says they let her go. I tell her I’m in her town and ask her where she is. She just tells me not to worry about it and go home. I’m confused about it but keep pressing. She finally tells me where she is. I pick her up and say we’re going to talk to the cops. She tells me that she can’t and she wants to go home. Well, the cops are already at her home waiting for us when we get there. I’m terrified that they raped her or did some other horrible things to her.
The officer talks to her alone for about 15 minutes. Comes back to me and hands me his card asking me to call him when we’re done talking. So, I sit down with my girlfriend and ask her what happened. The first words out of her mouth were, “coltsblazers, would you be mad if I told you I lied?”
Eventually, she admitted she lied. I got up, had a few choice words, and left. Went back the following week to give her some of her stuff. Told her not to call me or email me or talk to me ever again. That’s right. She faked her own kidnapping.
I dated a guy for 5 years, from 16-23 and we moved to a larger city than where we had originally grown up. Eventually, the relationship deteriorated, and we parted ways, he stayed in the larger city while I had planned to move back to a smaller city. Long story short we were in limbo, chasing each other across Canada not wanting things to end.
I make the decision that the larger city is where I am going to call home, and I settle in while he moves back across the country to the smaller city. Once my mind was made up, and I gave him the decision that I would be seeing other men, he had memorized my passwords, logged into my accounts changed the password and told me that I wouldn’t see my accounts until I paid him the $400 I owed him from moving… the costs didn’t add up and I was furious. he was blackmailing me, and trying to manipulate and control me… scary stuff in hindsight. Either way, I told his mother, copying and pasting the conversation where he was calling me a s*ut and threatening me to his mother.
Within 20 minutes of sending the message, all my accounts were restored and we never spoke again…. it’s been 5 years.
Girl, I had thing for in high school and I start dating, the distance thing which is a mistake. Things are fine for a bit, she moves, tells me she’s working as a nurse, etc. Living with some friend of hers. I think this is all good. Then a couple of months later she tells me that she’s really scared. She thinks she’s pregnant. I have not had sex with her. I ask her what happened, she says she got drunk at a club and took a guy home. The condom broke. I’m pissed, but I’ve got it so bad for this girl I stay with her (I had it really bad).
A month or so later, she calls and says she wants to tell me “The truth.” The friend she had been living with was someone she had met online for the purpose of sex. Female friend, by the way. They moved in together and she started working for her friend’s business, not as a nurse. What did her friend do? Run an escort service. She had been working as an escort for the last few months. The pregnancy scare was not some drunken shenanigan at the club, that was one of her clients. This client, she told me, told her to keep it quiet cause his kid was upstairs napping, and to make it quick because his wife would be home soon. She then er*tic massaged him and f**ked him.
But wait, there’s more. I am in shock and tell her I’ll call her back. A friend of mine slaps some sense into me and tells me to never speak with her again, she’s just bad news. I call her and say I don’t want to talk to her anymore. I proceed to get dozens of calls and texts with the same message, “Pick up your phone or I am driving out to Kansas and I will kill you.” I didn’t, and I’m still here, so at least there’s that.
Finally, she told me years later that she was full-on lesbian and was using me as her beard anyway.
We had been together for 4 years and were happily engaged, or so I thought. I came home to find a good deal of our shared things missing. Even worse, nearly everything else that wasn’t missing was burned, but not like the room was set on fire…the item was individually burned and then placed back in their spots. What the F right?
She came out of the kitchen irate, screaming about how she didn’t feel the same, that somehow our relationship had become strange to her. She was angry that neither of us was sticking to the rules that we had laid out together, and that she needed a full commitment. I was flabbergasted. I told her she’d never be able to find another guy who could reach her on the lever that I could, that could tell her just how I was feeling without words. I knew, somehow, I had to make her understand.
She paused and took a deep breath, and gave me the ring back. After staring at it in my open palm, she exploded into a fit of rage. She ran around the living room table in this wild, demonic tirade. She disappeared into the kitchen for a second and came out with a cake right out of the oven. I was so confused but never would have guessed that she’d throw the hot dessert against my face. I couldn’t stop crying. Almost as quickly as she started this trance-like behavior she stopped, stared at me straight in my eyes, and with the coldest, scariest voice, said, “Just kidding. I love you.”
I was so hurt by the whole thing.
6 months after my boyfriend and I had broken up, he sent me an itemized bill for about $800 of the costs he incurred while we were on a trip together a year before we broke up. It was everything from a couple of hundred dollars for a flight to $16 for a bus ticket. He had put it on his credit card at the time of the trip and I must have asked him 100+ times how much I owed him – to which he answered “don’t worry about it.” Fast forward to a year later and he sent me the bill (coincidentally that is now his nickname). I was a student at the time with a huge amount of student loans and he was making a very healthy six-figure living. I never wanted to evade the cost of the trip – I have always paid my own way, and never wanted to take advantage of anyone. It was just getting tiring asking him how much I owed him when he refused to tell me.
What set me off was the timing of the bill. He knew my financial situation and decided to send it at that point anyway. I scrounged up the funds and sent him the money with the following note:
“I want only to remember the awesome parts of our relationship with the door open for all possibilities, but now I’m finding that sort of difficult. I understand that this is money I owe you, and I’m happy to repay it…but you had countless opportunities to solicit the funds (especially when I prompted you for the number so I could write you a check). The post-breakup timing of this itemized bill email seems petty and lacks class – especially for someone in your financial position. The check is in the mail.”
Oh, and by the way, the reason I broke up with him (among others) is that he cheated on me
My previous ex was the laziest, most unclean and unorganized person I’ve ever met to date. SO is lazy, she didn’t do any laundry, ever. One of her relatives died near the time we got together and she received a huge inheritance (around $50,000), which she proceeded to use to BUY NEW CLOTHES INSTEAD OF DOING HER LAUNDRY.
So, our room is now a disgusting mess of bl**dy underwear and other nasty s**t because there’s a continuous stream of new clothes being soiled and thrown on the floor.
Eventually, I get so angry and tired of this, that one day when she was out (clothes shopping, naturally), I strapped on a pair of rubber gloves and proceeded to jam every nasty article of clothing into her dresser and closet so she would finally have to deal with it.
PLOT TWIST: As soon as she gets home and sees all of her disgusting clothes jammed in all sorts of places, she goes through everything and throws all the clothing back on the floor and proceeds to cuss me out.
Needless to say, we’re not together anymore.
When I left my ex, she decided to run a full smear campaign against me. She called up my work on a weekly basis to tell them about all the death threats I had supposedly sent her and how I was planning on shooting her. She made an entire blog dedicated to slating me and got a (former) friend into bed in order to influence him against me.
She also targeted my friends, she tried on multiple occasions to run some of them over in her 4×4, and in one incident my friend had her children with her.
3 years later when my daughter was born, she addressed a letter to my daughter with a death threat. Imagine opening a letter addressed to a 4-week-old child stating she was going to get choked to death. That’s when I flipped, I called the police and told them if they didn’t stop her, I’d kill her. I haven’t heard anything since. Last I heard she has a new boyfriend and is planning on getting married, I wish him the best of luck.
The day I broke up with my ex… I got into my car and began the 35-minute drive home from her apartment. She started sending me pictures. the first one of a bunch of prescription bottles. The next, an adraw full of knives (not a cutlery drawer in a kitchen… a dresser drawer filled with pocket knives and steak knives and other ‘sharp objects’). The next picture was an Instagram-worthy shot that she HAD SOMEONE ELSE TAKE of her laying on train tracks.
She must have sent me 25-30 photos of various ways she could ‘end it all’ — This wasn’t the first time I attempted to break up with her and she had done similar things in the past, so I didn’t respond to her photos. I did send her dad a text and tell him what was going on, because if she did do something… I’d feel terrible if I ignored it.
I later found out that she swallowed 3 bottles of prescription medicine and attempted to steal her dad’s car. Luckily, he was there waiting when she arrived. She was hospitalized and we still haven’t talked since that day.
I dated a girl for a while who in retrospect was probably only dating me for my car, but that’s high school. Anyway, she broke up with me because I “kissed like her brother” Not “kissing me is like kissing a brother.” Apparently, our techniques are exactly the same and it weirded her out.
She then proceeded to date every one of my friends that would say yes until she figured out that I wasn’t jealous. She sprays painted “I love you her name” on her parent’s van and tried to blame it on me, which fortunately I had an airtight alibi so nobody believed her.
I broke up with my ex and then a few years later married another gal. Found out that my ex(who by then was also married) had her husband driving her up to where I worked and was stalking me…with her husband’s help!
Very well. My ex came home one day and told me that all of the Catholics in the neighborhood wanted her to bear the Christ child for the second coming. Because her name was Mary.
She became very interested in changing her name. She also became fiercely critical of me for the interference: Apparently, my astral body was popping out of me at night and giving her all kinds of invasive h*ll. The stories I could tell you.
First off, I’m diabetic. I had a girlfriend in high school who was upset at me at the time because I was in a play, SHE wanted me to audition for. With no theater experience, I got a big part and she got nothing. She wanted me to quit, but I didn’t. Fast forward to right before the first show. She apologized, offered to buy me an in-n-out meal and then I drove her home. After finishing eating in my car outside her house she grabbed my diabetes equipment ran into her house and locked the door. She screamed; you can’t go now I won’t give it back until you promise to not do the play. I went to the play anyway, feeling like the black guy from Con-air. Luckily her best friend was the stage manager and she convinced her to give it back before I had to go to the hospital.