Getting over my ex-girlfriend was a long road for me, literally! There was a nine-hundred mile stretch from her house (where I found her cheating) to mine.

I was once a quiet, painfully shy kind of guy. I didn’t venture out much. Meeting a girl in general public was virtually non-existent for me.

So, way back when open chat rooms were ridiculously popular, I found myself self-confined to my dark and dreary house, additively glued to the front of the computer monitor every day after work.

That’s when I found her.

She was the love of my life (or so I thought at the time). We spent months on the phone together. She’d whisper sweet nothings into my ear every night as I sat there absorbing it all up into my lovesick heart.

The time came. I had to visit.

The first umteen trips went great.

I had it in my mind that I was going to move there; replant myself in a foreign state where I knew no one but her. I was going to marry her—the love of my life!

Until…

It just so happened, after scraping the bottom of my piggy-bank, I found just enough money for a (yep, you guessed it) surprise visit.

Oh, how surprising it was, indeed.

I drove sixteen hours to find the one who swore would never lay her eyes on another man…on TOP of another man. I’m not sure if her eyes were open or not, but I had a feeling it didn’t matter much to her.

I never said a word, never made a sound. She never even knew I was there.

UNTIL…

I was stuck in her driveway because my car wouldn’t start. I was crankin’ on that son-of-a-bitch like I was stalled on a railroad track and I could see the train coming at a hundred miles an hour.

I hold the record for the longest stretch of road-rage in history; nine hundred miles of red-eyed, mind-blowing madness.

Surviving the breakup was difficult. For months afterward, it seemed as though I was dreaming. She was all I had consumed for a solid year. Suddenly, she was gone—an emptiness words can’t explain.

But, in the end, I pulled myself out of the mud and soldiered forth.

Since breaking up, she has tried to contact me several times, trying to win my heart back. Ha! Dream on, hooker!

Don Compton, 30, Chat Room Moderator

It was one of the most beautiful Sunday mornings I could remember, as she stood before me vulnerable, emotionally wracked and helplessly pleading. My eyes are empty as I search for a reason to get her back. She demands to why I don’t want to fight for her. She is beautiful in her short shorts, rumpled tee shirt, and hair that still smells like morning.

More than ever, I want to reach out and hold her. I want to hold on until forgetfulness sets in and everything is right with us again. Alas, my phone rings and I insist that I must answer it. She stares and glares, confused as to why she has pushed me into a corner and I won’t push back.

We were in love just a month ago. Although we had been together for five years, our relationship still had the new car smell. Yet, underneath that smell, there was some old food under the seat. Something that is rotten and forgotten. That’s why I stayed out too late. That’s why she returned my calls an hour later than she should have. I thought she could do better. She knew that she could. For a longtime, we told each other that love was enough until it was all we had. Then we said the words and realized there was an ocean between us. Then I kissed another girl.

Of course, that kiss did not lead to our breaking up. We were already a bunch of frayed nerves, disingenuousness, and anger. No, the kiss confirmed that she really could do better.

A drunken mishap, with a girl that could never measure up to my ex girlfriend, told me everything that I needed to know about myself. My clumsy pawing and feigned regret told me one thing. My dishonesty told me everything else.

I became colder and more distant. I was convinced that she would see what was obvious and do what was necessary. She called me and challenged me. I was evasive…. She said we should end it and I weakly agreed. I would get over the broken heart. So, what the hell is she doing here this morning, Sunday morning, wondering why I won’t fight for us? I am silent. It is better this way. You can do better than me. She leaves in a rush. The girl in my bathroom slinks out, gets dressed, kisses me on my forehead, and leaves.

I disgust myself.

Louis Meadowbank, 30, self-employed

It’s not a secret that getting over a break up isn’t easy, but I never realized it could be nearly impossible until one horrible night at a local Mexican restaurant.

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.

Sometimes it seems like there’s just no way to do it. After all, I can’t just turn off my feelings. I’m not a machine, a computer that can be rebooted and everything will be all right. Nope, I’m human, and when she kicked me out, I thought I would never get over the broken heart.

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.

Different people have different kinds of experiences with girlfriends, but mine was especially painful. Weeping for the broken hearted had not typically been my MO, but when I was forced to get over my ex girlfriend , I started to understand what all those guys were talking about. I found out quickly that the best way to get over a broken heart is to pick yourself up off the floor and move on to more important things. There will be more girls, and breaking up is not the end of the world. At least in my case, it was the start of something new.

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

I will probably never truly get over my ex-girlfriend because I know now she’s the “one who got away.” I failed because I didn’t try, even when I thought I was. I was disrespectful, unfaithful and unappreciative. It’s only now, with years of perspective behind me, that I truly understand just how much I flopped at being a man. This is the story of my how I learned to survive a break up even when I wanted to get her back.

We met in college through mutual friends, ending up together because my roommates were dating her roommates. I think it turned to love faster than I expected and after the honeymoon phase wore off, I was scared by how much I loved her. I wanted to be cool and macho, and deny that I needed anyone to hold me up when I was down. But I did, and I needed her. By this time I was completely overwhelmed with depression, which was not related to our relationship, but was its ultimate end.

My depression affected my actions, what I never said and what I denied I felt. She was so good to me and I did everything I could to push her away. Our relationship was cyclical, depending on my moods. Sometimes we were together for days on end; other times I would camp out at my house and dodge her phone calls, which was easy to do in the days before cell phones. After a particularly rough point in the third year of our tumultuous relationship, I cheated on her. She found out about the other woman after we’d gotten back together again, but her knowledge of my behavior was the last straw for her. She left me for good. And I was left to learn how to get over a broken heart.

Shortly after learning my girlfriend was really breaking up with me, I sought professional help, where I dealt with my depression and finally came to terms with the fact that I’d lost my soul mate and would never get her back.

Being able to put this all into words gives it life and reality that never existed back then. A lot has happened in both of our lives over the last twelve years, but I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement when I learned that she was recently divorced. I think that means I may never get over my ex-girlfriend.

Paul Douglas 34 –  Journalist

I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought Sarah and I were in it for good. I loved her very much. I had introduced her to my family and my friends adored her. But then, all of a sudden she ended it. According to her, we were not spending enough time together. Apparently, we were always hanging out with friends in a group and were never doing anything together as a couple. I did the initial begging and groveling at her feet, after which she literally threw me out of her place.

So there I was, lovesick, frustrated and quite at lost. I drowned my sorrow in drinks and the comfort of the very friends for whom apparently Sarah broke up with me. They bought me countless rounds of drinks, took me to the newest clubs in town and never mentioned my “ex”.

I was having a tough time referring to Sarah as my “ex girlfriend”. But I knew I had to get used to it…

I knew the drill for I had helped a few of my buddies get over their broken hearts. I knew I would forget her and everything would work out fine. I would meet someone, fall in love and life would be hunky dory again.

But it wasn’t easy to get over my ex girlfriend. Any brunette like my ex would have me longing to get her back. At pubs, any woman ordering a Cosmopolitan would remind me of her. I would relive the way she turned the olive in her drink, left it soaking before chewing on it slowly with relish. If someone put 60s or 70s music on the jukebox, I would be taken back to the evenings when we would have take-out Chinese at home and listen to endless replays of The Beatles and Dylan.

Each time this happened, I would try to snap back out of it and tell myself repeatedly to forget her. Each time my fingers itched to dial her number, just to listen to her voicemail message, I would tell myself to call my mother instead! And trust me, my mother was surprised for she had no idea why I was calling her so many times a week.

Therapy did not work, neither did blind dates set up by friends. Days rolled into months before I realized that it had been almost half a year since breaking up with Sara. And one day, I snapped. While I realized it was hard to survive a break up, I decided to talk to myself once and for all. That did the trick. Every time afterwards, I went over the breakup in my mind, I forced myself to try to look ahead.

Gradually, I opened up more to my friends’ efforts and starting going out with new people. I can now listen to The Rolling Stones without breaking down in tears. I can have a sane conversation with any Cosmo-guzzling date. The only person not so happy is my mother. For now that I am back on track in my life, she does not get so many calls from me anymore!

Joseph Flint,  25, computer programmer