Me: So how was your day?

Her: Fine. How was yours?

Me: OK.

Her: Well, I have to get ready for dinner. Bye.

Well, I was studying to be an archaeologist at the time, and this summer was going to get my feet wet on my first expedition. So I signed onto a dig on one of the Greek islands. The town I was staying in didn’t have internet. Heck, it barely had a payphone. When you think of one-horse towns from spaghetti Westerns, upgrade the scenery to the mid 1980s and you’d have a good picture of the place. Needless to say, with the technological gap and the time difference, the daily phone calls went away.

To be honest, there was also this girl I met… Well, there might have been three girls. One of them even needed help on how to get over her ex girlfriend. Sometimes it’s nice to work in a profession where women get daily exercise digging in the dirt, thereby ensuring a relatively low fatty-to-hot girl ratio. In America, we’ve become so used to the obesity epidemic that we forget how large of a percentage of the female population is attractve when you only have to subtract out the fuglies. And even the fuglies have their moments when they’re pouring you that 22nd shot of raki, which is Greek moonshine that’s usually made in a sink or a toilet bowl, judging by the taste. But I digress.

Breaking up was definitely in my future. After a couple months and three girls, I go back home to talk to my girlfriend. I was still young and naive, so I figured I’d tell her the whole sordid story and break up with her. That’s what happens when you have a conscience that’s weak enough to let you do what you want, but strong enough to make you feel guilty about it later.

Unfortunately, she broke up with me first. She’d cheated on me while I was gone — several times. Even though I had done the same thing, I was devastated.

I suddenly didn’t know how I’d get over a broken heart. I spent the next year trying to simultaneously get her back and get over a broken heart. I’ll spare you the nasty details, but I was unsuccessful on the first count, but did discover one of life’s great truths. I was able to get over my ex girlfriend by getting under someone else. That’s the best way to survive a break up. And as a word of parting advice, based upon my experience, Swedish girls are better in the sack, but Norwegians are better cuddlers.

Pyrrhus, 25, archaeologist

It had been about a month after the break up with my on-again, off-again ex-girlfriend of two years. I knew I wasn’t over her, but I was dealing with the pain in the usual fashion—dating someone new and drinking lots of alcohol. Thanks to an icy margarita and the pretty face sitting across from mine, my mind was happily diverted from my previous relationship that particular night. Then my ex walked inside … with a guy I used to know in college. What could be worse? Well, let’s just say that my buzz completely died when the hostess sat them at the table next to ours. There wasn’t enough tequila in the house to help this awkward situation.

The rest of the evening is still a blur. I am, however, pretty certain that my date wasn’t impressed when she had to drive me home. We never went out again. What I do remember is that I didn’t get squat done at work the next day. Instead, my ex-girlfriend and I emailed each other back and forth for hours.

I emailed my ex girlfriend and I carefully crafted each sentence to somehow let her know how much it killed me to see her with another man, while still trying to hold onto at least a little bit of pride. Her responses were much more humble.

She explained how she had to hold back the tears from her date the entire night. She even told him that she wasn’t ready to go out again. It may sound petty, but I was thrilled to know that she was just as miserable as I was.

While we didn’t get much accomplished at work, that day proved to be very productive in another aspect. I finally figured out that this breakup story wasn’t over just yet. It was time for my ex-girlfriend and I to change the ending—and get it right this time. Somehow that horrible night gave us the inspiration we needed to fix our relationship. Seven years and two kids later, I’m happy to say that it’s still working.

Amanda and I were together for four years. We met at work, became casual acquaintances and eventually our relationship bloomed into something that was a mature and trusting relationship. At least, I thought so anyway. Somewhere near the end of the line, Amanda had found someone else. To this day, I’m not sure exactly who he is, or why she left me. She didn’t leave me with a lot of kind words or explanation past “there’s someone else”. What I felt next was pure overwhelming heartbreak.

Like I said, as a guy, I don’t really know how to deal with this stuff well. There were a couple of days after we broke up that I don’t really remember due to some extracurricular activity with my friend Jack Daniels. Actually, maybe there were a few more than just a couple days that I don’t really remember after we broke up.

Searching for answers and putting the blame on yourself is real easy to do in that situation, but it doesn’t help any.

Getting over heartbreak is about as difficult as anything can get. Sitting around, binge drinking, binge eating are all natural tendencies us guys want to find solace in, it dulled the pain for me but it didn’t get me an closer to actually getting over her.

Instead, try distracting yourself. Find a new hobby or regain interest in an old one. I found that reading over thousands of baseball stats went from being something as boring as Golf to something that can keep my mind off my ex. God knows what she was doing anyway. I focused on my work, school, or hobbies and keep a fresh outlook on the future. Taking a vacation also helped me get over the broken heart - how can you be heartbroken with some of your best buddies on a cruise ship getting tanked every night? I found that a heart can be as easily mended as it is broken (trust me, the Dallas Cowboys remind me of that every year).

James D, 27 - Teacher

Jess was the most beautiful girl on the planet to me. I probably would’ve done anything for her. Now I’m not usually like that when it comes to girls, I’m more of the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, but Jess finally settled me down for a while. We were together for a long time. Like three years or so. That’s a real long time for me.

So when it came time for me to ship out to Iraq for a thirteen month long tour, I was hoping we could stay together. Surprisingly she told me she didn’t really have any interest in that. Her career was taking leaps and bounds and was going to involve her traveling alot and I don’t think she felt like having to miss me all the time. Still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me but like I always did with Jess I respected her wishes.

Getting over her was rough, luckily I had a lot to distract me overseas but I still thought about her all the time.

I found that getting over her was almost like waging a miniature battle in my head that always left me mentally spent and exhausted. But eventually I moved on.

I still think about her a lot and I am glad that she helped straighten me out as a person. God knows I needed it! I look back now and think about all the times we had together and how she helped me improve myself. I feel positive about the whole situation. Let’s just say I might still love some and leave some, but I think I’ll be hanging around the strip clubs a little less from now on.

While I’ll always remember her and save a place in my heart for her,  though difficult, getting over my ex girlfriend showed me a lot about my resilience as a person. Now I’m ready to kick some ass overseas and face a whole bunch of other challenges that I can’t even begin to describe.

Things seemed so great with us, like a match made in heaven. We had all the same interest, the same sense of humor, politics, and views on parenting. We did everything together. We spent every moment together, even moved in together. The day I came home and found the locks changed, I was absolutely stunned.

My first thought was that there was something wrong with the key. I mean, really, who expects to come home from a long day at work to find the locks suddenly changed? There I was, tired and worn out so I knocked on the door for her to let me in. That’s when I heard her voice from the upstairs window telling me I couldn’t come in, I had to leave. How does this happen? How do you go from being so in love and spending all your time together to standing on the front porch trying to figure out how you’re going to get your pool table out of the basement?

Changing the lock was her not so subtle way of breaking up with me. Well, obviously, I got mad and started pounding on that door. After all, I paid the rent, if anyone was moving, I figured she should.

But, the cops didn’t see it that way. I did eventually get my stuff back. But it took a long time and the help of mutual friends.

For almost a year, I was incredibly conflicted about her. I loved her so much, and yet I also hated her with an intensity that was surprising. There was no middle ground. There was no thinking of her fondly. When I thought of her, I did one of two things. I yearned for her, and desperately thought of things I could do to get her to take me back. Or, on the opposite end, I would consider making a little blond haired voo-doo doll that I could stick needles into. Any chance I got I would complain about her and put her down, all to try and ease my heartache. After all, hating someone is much easier than loving someone you can’t have.

Over time, it got easier. I felt that my broken heart was slowly mending. Gradually, I felt less hatred towards her. I could think about her without the intense, powerful feelings. Getting over that broken heart definitely took time and patience. But I’m proud to say that I did, eventually, get there.

Alyssa and I met in college. I had been giving the single life a try for a good while (probably about a year or two), and Alyssa actually had a boyfriend. We met through mutual friends, and the only thing that I ever gathered about her boyfriend is that he was quite the possessive/aggressive type. I remember having to see her out in the hallway crying on the phone with him - he’d always get pissed off about something new each day and take it out on her.

Now I’ve always been one for the damsel in distress type, so I naturally took my hand at courting her as best as I could. For whatever reason, my nerdy charm worked, and we started going out on dates and spending a lot of time together. Sounds like the beginning of happily ever after, right? Well, perhaps it would be if it weren’t for one thing: Alyssa never broke up with her ex. While I was happy at first, us seeing each other while she was still with someone instilled a sense of distrust in me that eventually ended to us ending the relationship a year later.

Alyssa and I lived together for a year, and the first four or five months were pretty damn good. We had fun, went out to eat every night, and were making love every night and waking up to each other the next morning.

Despite our exhilarating relationship, that distrust started to rear it’s ugly head. I started becoming the very same possessive boyfriend her ex was - only because I know that she had cheated on him with me. Quite frankly, I became irrational and aggressive, and in turn, she became irrational and aggressive.

The relationship was over and when it settled in that it was gone it hit me. Real hard. For a while, I tried to run from my problems - so much so that I ended up moving out of state.

True story.

We had our first date that night, our first kiss the next, and two weeks later she practically had her wedding dress picked out. So that was why my breath got knocked clear out of me when she called that night.

“Brock, it’s not working.”

I gulped. “You mean, like, you need some space?”

“No, you dork.” I couldn’t believe she was calling me a dork. That was so dated. “I mean that my relationship with you is ended. Done. We’re breaking up.”

“I’m not breaking up, you’re breaking up,” was all I could manage. Dumb, yeah. I know.

I spent the next weeks getting over our relationship. For one thing, I never saw the relationship ending, so I was unprepared. I felt like a Marine who’s been sent into enemy territory with no preparation, no briefing - no map, even. I had no experience in getting over a relationship breakup. I made all the wrong moves.

Like for instance, walking in on her client meeting. It was Valentine’s Day. Yeah, she had the gall to break up with me right before Valentine’s. I’m not the most romantic guy in the world, but I know chicks dig this stuff. I had no way of knowing that this particular day, she had an important rep from her company’s biggest supplier in her office, and they were trying to close another rep from a huge firm. So when I pushed into the room, all I saw was her through the bouquet in my arms.

Now, in the movies, the scenes always go something like this. Girl looks up, girl looks shocked, girl melts, girl runs out of meeting with guy, lips lock, roll credits. Not this time. Lauren said, “Can you excuse me a moment, gentlemen?” She pushed me out and in the hall, she propelled me toward the outdoors. “Do you have no respect for my time?”

“It’s Valentines.”

“I told you I was ending the relationship,” she said. “Don’t come around here with that stuff.”

“Don’t you owe me some kind of explanation?”

“Not really.”

It was still hard on me, breaking up and all. But I learned from the experience that the movies are lies. Getting over a relationship is hard, but staying in a broken one is impossible.

That night I got a phone call. My heart jumped when I saw the number. “Baby!” I answered, ecstatic. I knew those flowers would work.

“Brock!” She was in tears. “You lost me the client, you -” The rest is unprintable.

Brock Tonelli, Age 28, House Painter, Handyman

We had been friends for quite some time in college, with both of us having different significant others at one point in time. The timing was never exactly right, so we just hung out when we could and we let things happen naturally. When we both became single early in our senior year of college, it was time to see what we could do. The relationship went well for the whole year, until the time came for graduation. She was heading back to Philadelphia and I was heading to Las Vegas to try my hand as a professional poker player. Could we make it work? It sure beat the prospect of breaking up.

During our long distance relationship, my ex girlfriend and I would talk regularly and try to keep things going. She just couldn’t stand being alone, so she did what any liar or cheater would do. She lied, and she cheated.

The signs were obvious and it became apparent that things just weren’t going to work. We broke up and for a long period of time, I thought to myself, “We’ll eventually get back together…” She was my best friend, after all, but there was nothing good about the relationship in its current form.

I had to get over my ex girlfriend by getting a plan about the future. I scraped the poker career three months in, not because of ineffectiveness, but because it was a dead end road. I prepared and applied to law school, while also dating a few other girls to ease the pain after we finally broke it off. I found that my world was full of potential girlfriends, so I made a clean break with the ex and never really looked back. Though painful at the beginning, it was one of the best things to happen to me.

Craig D. Law student - 24

Until it happens to us.

True to the beer slogan, you never forget your first girl. I don’t know what counts as your first girl in that slogan, but for me, it meant the first one you take seriously. You know, the first one you think of as part of yourself, the one you may occasionally commit the cardinal sin for, and choose over friends… and even beer. She’s not the first one you explore sexuality with or have a laugh with. She’s not the first girl you dated or the girl you brought home to mom and then apologized for.

She’s the first one you apologized to on behalf of your own mom.

For me that girl was Maryanne.

We met in college, and I suddenly and instantly lost interest in the carnal smorgasbord that was campus life. The Tri Delts are drunk, and playing a game involving blindfolded body part identification? Ho hum. There’s an ecstasy-fueled cheerleader dogpile in your dorm room? Sorry dude, gotta study. You get the picture.

Maryanne and I weren’t joined at the hip. We didn’t have to be. Neither of us had been subjected to heartache, so our trust (being untested) was absolute. We had no idea we would break each others’ hearts, never mind what it was like.

I’ll spare you the details of what made her storm out one night, and the details of why I didn’t go after her — though part of me (a lot of me) wanted to. Suffice it to say we had said things that could not be unsaid. It was over, whether the break was clean or protracted.

I was ready for a hard night without her. I was even ready to reach for her in the morning, and realize she was gone. What I was unprepared for was how long she would not be there, to wit, forever.

My heart wasn’t broken. There was a Maryanne-shaped hole in it. There was no mending the break, no curing the heartache with tequila like you cure a headache with aspirin.

There was only living until the hole grew over with new experiences and new loves.

Mark,  47 - Writer/editor