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  1.  (10459.1)
    Memories are all that stand between us and Galvani’s frogs. Here is where we burn our anecdotes onto the face of the Interweb and persuade history we’re more than twitching amphibian meat machines.

    THE RULES:

    1. Recount a tale on the below topic. You have 300 words. Anything more than that will be flambéed with the righteous heat of Deletion. Repeat offenders will be banned.

    Linking to a longer version of the story, or posting subsequent chapters, or anything which indirectly pushes it past that 300 word limit, will be similarly nuked.

    2. Read – and comment on – the other entries, before you post your own. Partly that’s because you’ll look like a plum if your story is a rubbish shadow of someone else’s. Mostly it’s because you’re not an impolite shit, are you?

    [3. Additional emphasis: “Topic.” TOP-IC. That means your anecdote should revolve around a specific subject, yes? The one below, in fact. Not just any old tale you care to share. Deviation = maggoty pee-hole disaster.]

    THE LEGAL CRAP:

    By telling us your story, it’s in the public domain. Don’t get pissy about that.

    Right now you’re in a pub, surrounded by writers, artists and socialites. If you recount an interesting tale to entertain and endear yourself to your fellows, you do not get to bitch about it if a twisted version of the same tale shows up 30 years later on the other side of the planet. Stories are contagious. My advice? Be honest. Don’t make shit up. Don’t treat this like a fiction thread. It’s a chance to entertain and move us with your life experience. That’s plenty good enough.

    THE TOPIC:

    "Worst! Breakup! Ever!"

    [Let me repeat, for the sake of the dinlows out there: YOU HAVE 300 WORDS. Lack of net access prevented me from being heavy-handed over the previous thread. No more free passes.]
  2.  (10459.2)
    I said, “Pack my bags for me, if you really want me to leave.”

    She did.

    She loaded them into the trunk for me, started the car, and waited for me to get in.

    I did.

    She drove me several miles out of town, and dropped me at the next nearest city. She didn’t even say “good-bye.”

    I did.
    •  
      CommentAuthoroldhat
    • CommentTimeJan 23rd 2012 edited
     (10459.3)
    Found out that, eight months previous, he had decided to be polyamourous without telling me. Discovered that he had chosen a primary partner that wasn't me (well, duh I didn't know about it), he had been fucking scores of other people in between and that he stopped really giving a shit about me around that time, though still wanted to keep me around because I was a laugh and a pretty good fuck.

    And ALL of our mutual friends knew about it and didn't say one word to me or to him in my defense. They actually covered for the fucker and because most of them were fooling around with him anyways, decided not to talk about it with him.

    But he told me he still loved me (though nowhere NEAR as much as I had loved him, just so I knew) and was a little surprised when I told him it was over (I figured it was fucking obvious).

    So that led to me drinking, listening to sad music and starting a year and a half long process of putting my life back together and becoming the closest thing to me than I've been my whole life. Still have plenty of trust issues from that and as such, have built up some walls.

    Bit of an epilogue, he fell MADLY in love with his primary partner, even gone so far as to nearly propose from what I understand, but the primary partner moved on and preferred someone else. The ex is still apparently recovering from that blow and sent me an e-mail last year apologizing. So...I suppose there's some justice in the universe.

    Still...what an idiot I was.
    • CommentAuthorRenThing
    • CommentTimeJan 23rd 2012
     (10459.4)
    My first girlfriend was two years older than me. Things were going ok, until I found out she was telling people we were a lot more serious than we were, were planning on getting married, had planned the wedding, and even picked out kids names. When I confronted her about this she admitted it and I told her to stop, that I wasn't getting married, let alone becoming a dad, until after university. She lasted two weeks before she was continuing her creepy fantasy making and I broke up with her.

    Every three years after she'd find some excuse to get in touch with me. She got knocked up by and married to the next guy she dated after me and, surprise surprise, started having marital issues. She used my naïve "I'll always be here for you" promise that so many well-intentioned young people make to get me to spend the night in a well-lit office (whose windows and door were open to anyone walking by to stifle any shenanigans), talking about her issues. At the end she tried to get me to invite her up to my room. Three years after that, a friend of hers was getting married and she asked if I'd go with her to the wedding as her date. Next time, she emailed to say she was coming through town for a night.

    I believe my last email was, "I have no idea of why you are emailing me. I don't think I've been unclear. We dated in high school almost a decade ago. I've grown, changed, been with more people and I have been reasonable when I've explained that I'm not friends with you nor do I want to be. But since that hasn't worked, let me be blunt: Leave me the fuck alone."
  3.  (10459.5)
    I got dumped for sleeping with someone else once. It sounds pretty straight forward, right? Cheating on your partner is pretty much the capital offence when it comes to relationships. I do, however, have a pretty damn excuse.

    I had no idea I was cheating.

    No, I'm not claiming we were on a break, or that i was so blind drunk that I didn't remember it. It's actually pretty straightforward, in weird way. She had multiple personalities. I slept with one of the other ones. In fairness, they did look remarkably similar.

    So I was dumped for cheating on my girlfriend with my girlfriend. Try explaining that to people...
    •  
      CommentAuthorFinagle
    • CommentTimeJan 24th 2012
     (10459.6)
    @Lawrence Rider --

    I was in a committed relationship with a lesbian Dianic Wiccan for two years. Who continued to identify as a lesbian throughout our relationship.

    I feel you. However, telling the story usually gets me bought drinks, so it isn't all bad.
    •  
      CommentAuthorrazrangel
    • CommentTimeJan 25th 2012
     (10459.7)
    Sometimes you can just watch go down the tubes in advance, like spying a car stalled out on train tracks. You're just stuck.

    I planned a day out and got my bf to go out with me and some family. She was around, the ground between the three of us, rocky. She had been an occasional partner to the two of us but stuff had happened and that had fallen off and now we were trying to feel our way back to some kind of normal. She was there when we were going and she came with. It's just the sort of thing that happened. She rides currents into all sorts of interesting places and lives. And that day was a lot of fun. I guess. It's colored by memory. The evening was fun. But through it all, and you just have to take my word for it, I knew where it would end. I couldn't "see" the future, but I knew it consisted of me sleeping alone and them together.

    Later on he would tell me it was his frustrated strike at our relationship, he knew it was acting out and inexcusable but it was what was left for him to express. She would say that she hadn't thought about checking on his agreement with me. Later on I would assure her she wasn't crazy, I don't like that word. I was just disappointed. Later still they would both cut off contact with me. Then move in together. Then marry.

    I would sink into a depression that lasted well over two years. Two friendships of over ten years each, gone.

    There you go, Whitechapel. I don't tell that one to just anyone.
    •  
      CommentAuthoroldhat
    • CommentTimeJan 25th 2012
     (10459.8)
    Can I just...play some sad-as-fuck-songs-that-got-me-over-it-links? Because that's what I feel like doing with this thread. That and passing along a bottle of rum.
    • CommentAuthorRenThing
    • CommentTimeJan 25th 2012
     (10459.9)
    @oldhat

    I keep trying to pass a bottle but the glass just clinks against the monitor screen. 8(
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeJan 25th 2012 edited
     (10459.10)
    I agree with oldhat.We're all going to have to do some intensive therapy to cope with reliving such trauma.I was trying to think of a breakup that had a bit of humour to it.I suppose i have got a couple of those in my past but my worst one?I thought it took me three years of waking up dying to get over it but,truth be told,i haven't laid it to rest and doubt i ever will.

    Ah...the humanity!Why,God,why?

    @razrangel:I hope your ok after posting your story.It's a painful one is that.
    •  
      CommentAuthorrazrangel
    • CommentTimeJan 26th 2012
     (10459.11)
    Rum would be very welcome. It was years ago now and I've gotten plastered enough in the intervening time to drown most of those sorrows. Ah but... "I tried to drown my sorrows but the bastards learned how to swim." Frida Kahlo

    Fleck - I survived, so not much to worry about there. Help a whole fuckload when I finally figured out how to go from crushed to pissed off. Only took a few years...

    Kick it to the ground

    (I give up - the video/mp3 button gives me the same exact code as a hyperlink.)
  4.  (10459.12)
    Fair points, all. Anyone wanting to pepper their WORST! BREAKUP! EVER! story with a little bit of BUT! I'M OKAY! NOW! would not go amiss.
    •  
      CommentAuthorFauxhammer
    • CommentTimeJan 26th 2012
     (10459.13)
    My first girlfriend bet my buddy--who was in the car with us, and a couple of other people--that she could jerk him off in thirty seconds or less.

    She was astonished when I showed her the door. Astonished.
  5.  (10459.14)
    @Fauxhammer - another story without a happy ending!?
    •  
      CommentAuthorFauxhammer
    • CommentTimeJan 26th 2012 edited
     (10459.15)
    I got the happy ending when I was free of the little tyrant.

    EDIT: Let me get my happy ending in there before I find my pee-hole full of larvae. This incident was in March of 1993. By March 1994 I was with the girl I wound up marrying, and we're very happily married today.

    If she does offer HJs to my pals, she has the good grace not to do it in front of me.
  6.  (10459.16)
    Tempted to go back through this thread and edit to add "but it all turned out for the best" to every post.
    • CommentAuthorRenThing
    • CommentTimeJan 26th 2012
     (10459.17)
    @Horrible Warning Si

    Fuck yes it did, at least in my case. It's been almost six years and I think the crazy finally got the hint that I really didn't want to ever see her again.
    •  
      CommentAuthoroldhat
    • CommentTimeJan 26th 2012
     (10459.18)
    Si, Oh it DEFINITELY turned out for the best. I had a complete breakdown, talked to nearly no one...fuck, I even tried to revive the fucking relationship with the dirtbag or even try and be his friend. Realized I couldn't do that.

    I blocked him from every social media platform I was on, I cut off contact with all of our mutual friends, and decided that I was through sacrificing a part of myself for someone. I realized that in that relationship I gave up everything for what he wanted to do and lost interest in the things I like but he didn't. I didn't like that and decided to be me (and anyone who didn't like me could go to hell). Started taking photos, started therapy, started exercising, started going out to free events and making friends from it and bit by bit I was getting myself back.

    And now here I am. A photographer and boxer who brews her own beer, plays a dwarf fighter in D&D and has interests in science, history and several other things. I'm also with an amazing guy who thinks the world of me and I of him. It all turned out for the best!

    For the past few years I had attended a Buddhist New Year ceremony and one of the things I learned there on how to deal with being wronged was to remove everything but the lesson you learned. That way it turns in to a positive thing. That really helped me.
    • CommentAuthorRenThing
    • CommentTimeJan 26th 2012
     (10459.19)
    Another worst break up: this one was with my ex-fiance and was my own doing.

    I was engaged when I went to college to the woman I got together with after the Psycho and it was probably one of the worst decisions of my life. Essentially, I got to university, where she was also going, and came to the realization that, while I loved her, I didn't want to be engaged. It wasn't that I had lost interest in her but I can't deny that I was also attracted to other people.

    And instead of doing the mature, and painful, thing of just breaking up with her I did the immature and more painful thing and dragged it out. There were multiple break ups and getting back together. The whole situation was vastly unhealthy but we didn't know how to stop being together; we still loved each other and wanted to be together, but I also wanted to be with other people thus the breaking up, feeling miserable, getting back together cycle.

    During this time she met the guy she'd eventually marry: my roommate at the time. Strapped for cash, he and I had moved into the same house as my sort-of ex and, during the time of me being an immature prat, they connected which fucked me up in other ways (hearing them have sex for the first time probably didn't help either). I failed all of my classes that quarter, didn't sleep three nights out of seven, and lost about twenty pounds. Additionally, he didn't like me for a long time after they got together, but it worked out in the end (we're all friends now, she's forgiven me, and I was even an usher at their wedding, but god did that time in my life blow).
  7.  (10459.20)
    @Si: Just to bring a bit of cheer then, post mad ex, I've now been in a relationship for (almost) seven years. Which is a terrifyingly long time. This one has just the one personality.