We met on the day that I broke up with her best friend, which, in retrospect, was a bad omen. I had offered to give her a ride home earlier in the evening, and on the way, I poured out my heart, asking what I had done wrong. She assured me that I was completely right, and her friend was totally crazy. Blinded by her obvious good sense, I asked if she wanted to go out some time. She told me she didn’t want to be involved with someone getting over a break up. Within a week, we were inseparable.

As often seems to be the case in most breakup stories, I noticed by the end of the first month that we didn’t have much in common.

The final straw and the break up came the day that her cable installation was scheduled for the same time as our date to the art museum. Apparently, she realized that twenty-four hour marathons of Law and Order meant more to her than I did.

She called and explained that she didn’t feel ready for more commitments other than her one year contract with her cable provider. I wasn’t prepared for the struggle that can follow after a break up… Especially when you share the same group of friends. Everyone immediately chose sides.  It’s hard to get over a break up when half the people you’d normally count on for support suddenly treat you as if you had a contagious disease.

Was it my fault for being too demanding? Was it her fault for not getting a satellite dish? I spent days going through my cellphone contacts, searching for the undecideds to lobby to join my team.

Getting over a breakup is never easy, but as relationships breakups go, ours wasn’t so bad in the end. As the weeks wore on, the pain gradually began to lessen, and I knew I had finally turned a corner when I saw her at a friend’s graduation party. She was talking about her new high definition flat screen TV, and I congratulated her on the purchase. She told me that she had upgraded her cable package to get the new HD stations, and maybe I should stop by some time. The picture clarity was amazing, she said. I responded that, ironically enough, the one thing I had gained from the last few months was a greater sense of clarity. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t get the joke.

David Bruce, 23
Customer Service Associate

There are very few sure things in life, very few rules that go uncontested through our daily routines. It seems that when these truths make themselves evident, they make our ears bleed, our teeth crack and our chest numb. This particular relationship, I learned, broke one of those rules. When your best friend breaks up with a girl, do not, I repeat, do NOT date her.

Especially if he began living with you two weeks ago.

As far as painful relationship go, this caused me pain the second I started dating this girl. Sharing a room with the aforementioned friend caused me emotional stress even when she was miles away. It’s a bit hard to be discreet when the person causing you pain outside of your relationship sees where you sleep. This led to some of the most memorable and quirky moments of my dating career.

We somehow lasted the better part of six months. The best part about it was the fact that she didn’t drive and her mother refused company. This gave us two options: go out every time we see each other (which, for a college student, was financially crippling), or hang out at my place where my friend would be. Welcome to hell.

This relationship broke another “life rule”: Don’t date people you work with. If you disagree with me then you either haven’t done it or you’ve worked at such establishments as Hooters or the Playboy Mansion. While I worked nights, she worked days. We worked, at most, two hours a shift together. Two hours of tiptoeing with everybody knowing something was going on, but not quite what. Not a very good idea as you might guess. Not a good idea while we were together, even worse when I was trying to get over the relationship afterwards.

With the girl leaving for school at the end of the summer, this train wreck of a relationship ended. Goodbye to the picking up and driving home. Goodbye to the awkward hangouts at my house. Most importantly, goodbye to the uncanny ability she had to make me smile no matter what mood I was in.

When the relationship actually ended, it didn’t hit me until a few days after. Not until my daily routine was interrupted by constant reminders of my ex girlfriend’s absence… And while large amounts of alcohol seemed to help, the truth is it didn’t… My feelings for her never quite left, and the emptiness never really left.

They were, at best, replaced. It’s been two years since things ended, and every time I see her we slip into the old routines. And my friend just won’t let it go…

Phillip, 24 – Student

My ex-girlfriend and I had met in college. Call me a late bloomer, but she was my first love. We did everything together and would visit each other when school was out. She was a senior by the time I graduated. That year, we saw each other once in the fall. Halfway through spring semester I hadn’t seen her at all, then I got the phone call. I don’t recall what she said exactly, but it was short and sweet – the typical “I need some time for myself” jargon.

In my manliest voice, I called my best friend and told him the news. Three years together and she ended it just like that. I was hurt, but the man-rules dictate that you never display emotion. He told me that it may bad for a while, but to give it time and keep busy. He then told me I’d feel much better in three days, he called it the “three-day hump.” I believe this “hump” may better apply to over-eating at Thanksgiving than a break-up.

After we had just broken up we were still linked through a social networking site. Some sleuthing found her getting awfully close to another guy – and here I thought she needed her “alone time”…

I deleted her. In a final act of barbarism, I blocked her as well.

I realize there are many ways to heal a broken heart. Some people write angry letters and never send them. Some find another girl immediately after, called a “rebound.” That night, I nursed my heartache with a few pitchers at a local dive bar.

That night, my friend gave me more advice, which all seemed a lot easier said than done. It was difficult listening to him – he has a new girl every week. The bar doubled as a karaoke lounge and liquor tends to give me, what I call, “Sinatra powers.” Being a true friend, he successfully kept me from singing “My Way,” or any other male empowerment song. I owe him for that.

I do think that girls have it easier. A girl doesn’t have to deal with heartbreak for too long, there will always be a guy or two to keep her busy. I didn’t date for a long time. I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since, nothing that has lasted more than a couple months, anyway.

A few months later, she began calling me. She tried to be friends, then hinted at getting back together. When I declined, she proceeded to curse me out via e-mail, text message, and voice mail. I flexed my man muscle yet again and had her e-mail and phone number blocked. It seems to me that she is no expert in coping with a break up either. But even through all of this, I have no ill-will towards her. I just think she needs some time for herself.

Charles D., 24, Engineer

She left me before she actually moved out.

The distance between us kept growing, but I was working so hard I didn’t notice at first. Then one day I was eating breakfast, looking around the apartment, and I realized half of our crap was missing. I’m not the most observant guy in the world, but even I eventually notice when the cat’s gone.

That’s when the break up and the confession came. She’d been slowly moving everything she considered hers out of the apartment since Christmas. As it was currently April, I had to applaud her sense of stealth or risk having to acknowledge my own obliviousness.

Getting over an ex is never easy, but it’s especially hard when she’s still living with you. Getting over her was going to be impossible no matter where she was.

Apparently all her stuff was at her mother’s because she was still saving for a place of her own. I thought about being the bad guy and telling her to get the hell out right now, but that would have made getting her back a lot harder, and at the time I was determined to get her back.

Obviously I’d been doing something wrong. Working too much, paying too little attention to her, something that had made the idea of staying with me a real chore. I started dressing better, wearing that cologne she gave me that smelled like rotten apples, even helping out around the apartment. (There was a lot less stuff to clean – apparently everything that was good besides the TV was firmly in the “hers” pile.)

Once it was out in the open, then it really began to feel like the relationship was ending, as she moved into the guest bedroom. There was nothing but the rock hard futon her sister gave her in there. It was kind of humiliating to realize she preferred sleeping on it to sharing a bed with me.

Even more humiliating when I realized she didn’t always sleep alone in there. She didn’t rub it in my face, but it got the message across.

Getting over her happened slowly. My ex girlfriend lived with me for two months after we officially broke up and it was the most wonderful, awful time. I entertained fantasies of us working it out, her realization that I was the only one for her. It never happened.

I got the cat back, though. At least she lets me watch the Playboy channel.

Mark Street, 24, retail manager

It was a cliché line I never wanted to hear from my girlfriend.

I dreaded those words. But after almost eight months together, they came.

She called me on the phone on a Sunday evening. I remember it was a Sunday evening because I had just finished watching The Simpsons. After a brief hello – which sounded awkward – those words that let me know our relationship was almost over left her mouth.

She said: “We have to talk.”

I drove to the parking lot where she worked, got out of my car and entered hers. She didn’t waste any time breaking up with me and telling me that we just didn’t have and ‘chemistry’ anymore. I had kind of sensed it coming, but didn’t want to admit it to myself. She had always said that as long as I didn’t cheat on her, we’d be together. Well, she lied. I didn’t cheat on her.

It was a ‘chemistry’ issue. As she sat there talking about all the things that were wrong with our relationship and why it wasn’t working, I just nodded. I was too in shock to really listen. I was devastated. A big part of me wanted to explain myself, to fight to get her back. But pride won out and I kept my mouth shut. This led to a night that just kept getting worse.

On the way home, I contemplated what happened. It seemed like there was still a small time window for me to go back and win her over. It’s even possible it was all a test to see how much I cared about her. But something led me back home. And when I shut the door behind me, I knew it was over for good.

What I didn’t know was how tough it was to get over a broken heart. I never thought I would have to deal with breaking up with her, yet there I stood, my knees weakening faster than my heart. I attempted to walk up the steps, but collapsed. While remaining conscious, I couldn’t find the energy to walk. I shed many tears as I crawled up each step. It took over a half an hour to get to the second floor.

Once in my room, I asked myself how I could possible survive this break up. She was everything to me. She changed my life for the better, gave me hope, and let me know that it was possible to be loved. Despite the pain, I knew I had to get over my ex girlfriend. It seemed the most difficult chore of my life at the time, but I did my best to go out and socialize with other co-eds to keep my mind off her. It was the only potential way to get over my ex-girlfriend.

The amazing thing about it all is that a few months later we met up as friends. A friend of hers happened to be with her.

To make a long story short, that friend of hers is now my wife, and an amazing woman. I’m glad I never gave up hope.

Nick Tyler
35
Investor

As I sat in my easy chair, beer bottles strewn across the coffee table in front of me, the question reverberated in my head: “How’s your ex-girlfriend?”

This question, an innocent inquiry from a co-worker, had driven home the finality of the break-up. Up until that point, I had spent my time dreaming up desperate schemes to get her back. All that came of these pathetic fantasies was an awkward, unreturned voice message. I was THAT GUY, the legendary brokenhearted boyfriend whose groveling soliloquy gets played back by his ex-girlfriend to her inner circle over margaritas, to responses of , “You gotta cut that loose, girl!”, or “You need a REAL man!” I hate the inner circle.

Now it was Friday, and I was sunk deeply into that chair, wishing to disappear into its thick folds. After THE QUESTION had been set forth, my co-worker Kenny, the self-proclaimed “expert” on all things romantic, proceeded to hold court around the water cooler.

“Getting over an ex,” he began, “is like losing your pet lab. It’s a loss, for sure, but also an opportunity. Now you can get a new lab, one in the puppy stage. You know, the cuddling and wrestling and licking, know what I mean?” Unfortunately, I knew what Kenny meant, and needed a superhuman does of self-control to keep my clinched fist at my side instead of shoving it down his throat. Now THAT would’ve been great fodder for water cooler discussion! Physical violence also seemed like a viable solution to the tangible bitterness that accompanied the aftermath of the break up.

The event that spurred my recovery was completely unexpected. About two months after THE QUESTION, I was out at a popular local nightspot with a group of friends and saw my ex dancing quite closely with a guy I had known since high school. The worst part about it was, I couldn’t be angry. He was a terrific guy, and someone I hadn’t seen in a while; he probably had no idea that I had even dated Sarah before him. At that moment, I felt a tremendous and surprising sense of peace: Sarah and I had never had the rightness, the free and easy comfort, that she seemed to share with this man. With this realization came the long sigh of relief and the finality of the thought: “I am no longer getting over her; I have moved on.”

Barry, 33 – Manchester

I recently lost the girl of my dreams but didn’t realize it at the time. We had been going out for almost three years and I know that she was waiting for me to be more serious in our relationship. She often talked about marriage, (something that I always ran from), and children. My inability to commit led to our break up and the biggest heartbreak of my life.

I had taken her out to dinner at one of her favorite spots the night she crushed my world. We had ordered and were drinking a glass of wine when she again approached the subject of marriage. I started to stumble on my words and tried to change the subject.

“See,” she almost yelled at me, “You’re just an idiot that will never have a family because you can’t commit!”

Everyone in the place turned to look at us. I could feel the heat on my face.

“Calm down,” I stammered. That’s when things got really bad.

She stood up and addressed the entire restaurant.

“This guy is a jerk! We have been going out for almost three years. He loves to say that he loves me, and he loves taking me to bed, but he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with me!” With that, she stormed out. I felt my heart break the instant that she was out of sight.

I looked around the room and called for the check. I wanted out of there as quickly as possible. The other customers there started throwing advice and telling me that I was a jerk. So now here I was assaulted with my girlfriend’s (newly ex girlfriend) leaving, the looming relationship heartbreak- and public ridicule to boot.

I quickly paid the bill and left. I tried to call her the next day and she told me that I had told her all she needed to know when I let her leave without a word. I tried to explain the embarrassment, but she hung up on me. I sent her flowers to apologize and admit that I was a jerk, but she had the delivery guy bring them to my office with a note telling me that I could stick it.

As if all of this wasn’t bad enough, the waitress from the restaurant sent me a letter telling me that I should have never let my girl leave, and that I had serious commitment issues. She also stated that she got my address from my credit card receipt and that I could call the place and have her fired because women needed to stick together when it came to guys like me.

Allen Reynolds, 25
Broker

Believe it or not, the girl I had the hardest time getting over was never even my girlfriend. Technically speaking. It was someone who, after just a couple dates, let me know that she wasn’t really interested in pursuing anything beyond friendship. But pursue friendship we did, over the course of several years and long-distances…

I put far more resources into that “friendship” than any romantic relationship I’d ever had. I was in love with my friend, and not being able to move it to another level was heartbreaking in itself and it was nearly killing me.

But the idea of ending our friendship — false as it may have been — and not spending time with her, killed me even more.

A long while down the road, I told her I loved her. But I did it by email, because I was a coward — in case you hadn’t already gathered that. I also threw in everything that I thought was wrong between us, in the hope of convincing her that my love was strong enough to make it all right. I was young and in love and not thinking straight, and I shouldn’t have done that.

She responded with one of the angriest emails I’ve ever read, and cut off all contact with me. They say you hurt the ones you love most, right? Maybe that proved we actually did have something, but it was gone. After all the connection we had built over all that time… I was very heartbroken and I knew that getting her out of my head and getting over her was going to be impossible.

I was so upset that for about four months, I had no appetite. The broken heart hurt my whole being… I would force myself to eat a tiny salad with lettuce, cottage cheese, and peach slice for lunch. I knew I needed to eat something, and that was all I could stand. At dinner I’d slowly get down about a fifth of whatever the cafeteria was serving, which wasn’t much.

I also went to a counselor about that time, just to make sure I wasn’t crazy, because it seemed crazy to be not be over a girl after that long, who I had never even “gotten serious” with. The counselor assured me I was going to be okay, and shortly after that I was.

The upside? At the end of those few months I’d lost twenty pounds! This was weight I could easily stand to lose. So for all the heartache and emotional pain, I came out in better health in the end. Sometimes it really is better to have loved and lost.

We’ve all been there, the inevitable end to a relationship. Some we see coming from far away and almost try to hurry up the process. Others, you get completely blindsided by. The later are the one’s that obviously hurt the most and take the longest to get over. When you didn’t see a relationship breakup coming, you aren’t able to brace yourself and prepare to move on.

My version of the breakup story happened the day before New Year’s Eve. Nathalie and I had been dating for about three years and had decided to move in together that year. We found a great two bedroom condo in a fantastic neighborhood. There was a great Italian restaurant, bookstore and even a karaoke piano bar nearby. I could visualize myself staying here, with Nathalie, for years.

Around Thanksgiving, I had noticed she was behaving differently. She started traveling a lot more often for work, which created a divide between us. Christmas came and past, we each spent it with our separate families. When I called to wish Nathalie a Merry Christmas, she seemed distraught and explained she had to travel the next day for work. I was surprised she was traveling right after Christmas but let it go. When she arrived home on December 30th, she looked exhausted. I asked her what was wrong and she blurted out “I have another boyfriend”.

The worst part was that she wasn’t even apologetic. Nathalie acted as if the break up was my fault, that I had driven her to this other guy.

I’m not exactly clear about what happened next. I know there were a few broken coffee mugs and I had a very sore hand from punching the wall.  I started packing my things and was out of the condo completely by New Year’s Eve morning. I spent New Year’s with my single buddies who were determined to help me get over the break up. I definitely drank away my sorrows and it did help with getting over a break up.

Two good things came from this. First, I was able to start the New Year completely anew, without her. Secondly, I was intoxicated enough that I definitely slept that night and well into the next day. My lingering headache made it almost impossible to think about her.

The weeks and months that followed were difficult. I had to find a new place to live. I ended up moving in with a friend. And I somehow had to start dating again. My friends attempted to set me up but I was definitely not ready.

After about six months, I started to seek out girls again, on my own. I wanted to ease back into the dating game with people who didn’t know my past and how badly I had gotten burned. Getting over a break up like this was definitely left its last effects, I am not sure if I’ll ever be able to trust someone so blindly again.

Felipe R, 34, Quality Control Inspector

The scene was a pathetic one. There I was, seventeen and on the white sandy beach watching the waves crash on the Florida shore. I was a ball player, athletic and tanned. Bikinis were as plentiful as grains of sand; but I was oblivious to them and the bodies inside them.

My parents thought there might be something terribly wrong with me. My parents didn’t see the chaos going on inside me because I wasn’t over her yet. Dad even dusted off his old drugs and alcohol lecture just in case that was the problem.

Drugs or any kind of fun was the last thing on my mind. I couldn’t look even look at a beer. This was the summer before my senior year, I was in the sunniest place in the world and all my mind could focus on was my ex-girlfriend and the breakup that had me in a million little pieces.

I had left the Midwest happy. I kissed her goodbye and everything was great. She was great. After years, I had found a girl who got me. She was cute and sweet, not beautiful maybe, but she didn’t have to be. She was intelligent and interesting and made every other girl in my high school look like a waste of time. I was the luckiest guy in town, and then I blew it.

The worst part of it all was that I had no idea how I blew it. I sent her a gold necklace in the mail. We talked on the phone every night. I loved this girl. One phone call ended in a small argument. It wasn’t a major fight. I was bored and missed her terribly, and like an idiot I took it out on her. She broke up with me, end of story. But, there had to be more.

Dad was close to throttling me out of my funk. I was ruining the summer, but I couldn’t help it. The last straw was the morning I cussed out a little seagull skittering down the beach in front of my feet. Dad ordered me to get over it then and there.

I thought the picture would be clear when I got home. I figured if I at least knew why I would be able to move on and get over her. There wasn’t. There was no other guy… At least thats what she said. We spoke in the halls when school started again, but it was almost like there was no acknowledgment of what had happened. No explanation ever came my way. I was so confused that I didn’t even try to get her back.

What did I learn from that breakup? I learned that I understood exactly nothing about women. Trouble is, not much has changed since then.

-K. B. Ryan, 37, sales