“Hey, can we go someplace private? We need to talk.”

If my girlfriend told me something like that today, I’d know what was coming. I’d be able to mentally prepare myself for getting dumped a few minutes ahead of schedule. Because those words can only mean one thing: she wants to break up with me.

At the time, though, I wasn’t a wise as I am now. I was just a freshman in college, enjoying my first serious relationship. Ah, so she wants to talk? Great! This’ll be fun. I love talking to her.

Do I need to dwell on the details? We’ve all heard it. It wasn’t me, it was her. We had some great times and she knew I would find somebody new who could give me what I was looking for, and she really, really hoped we could still be friends. She didn’t understand, any more than I did, that getting over a broken heart isn’t easy.

I didn’t quite process all this as it happened. Again, I was young and little naive. Today I can at least see the warning signs that the end is near. But then, it seemed to come out of nowhere. She might as well have told me she was alien and was leaving because she had to report back to her home planet. It sounds a little clichéd, but the feeling was exactly like being punched in the gut. I know it’s called heartbreak or heartache but isn’t really the gut that feels the worst of it? But the pit of my stomach was crying out in pain. How could I get over a broken heart if I couldn’t even get over a broken gut?

This happened twenty minutes before I had to go take a final for one of my classes. The girl wasn’t cruel, by the way. She misheard something I’d said earlier, and thought I was meeting her on the way from the test. When she realized her mistake, she was mortified. But in fact, maybe it was for the best. Thanks to the final, I had something to take my mind off the pain.

It reminded me there were other things in life, and that helped in getting over the heartbreak. It took some getting used to being single again, but soon enough I was back on my feet.

- Chris, 26, Graduate Student

I should have known the end was coming. Now that I look back, the signs were there: my beloved Amy was about to leave me. It might have been quicker and cleaner if I had acknowledges those damn signs. Hell, maybe I could have even saved the relationship. I was too scared, I think. The first sign was when she invited her sister’s brother-in-law to join us when we went to see “The Break-Up” with Jennifer Aniston. Amy said he was on leave from the Marine Corps, visiting his brother and her sister and was eager to get away from their three little boys for an evening. I could see they were having a great time…Amy and the brother-in-law, I mean. I tried to ignore the way they talked and laughed at each other’s jokes.

Next, Amy started canceling dates or making up reasons she couldn’t see me. I even caught her in an outright lie one time when I ran into her at a restaurant with some of her friends after she had told me she was going to be out of town. I never said anything about it, though. Later, I found myself coping with my broken heart by listing in my mind all the things I should have said: “It’s over, Amy. I can’t be with someone who would lie to me.” I wonder if my wounded heart would have healed much faster if it had gone down that way.

The breakup happened on New Year’s Eve. I hate New Year’s Eve. I tried to remember what I had gotten her for Christmas that year. Maybe it was lame and that’s why she broke up with me. It took me about a month to remember. I had gotten her an aerobics tape. Well, that was not all I gave her. But I do think that tape might have been the straw that…you know. She said she wanted the tape. She even wrote it down. We had been watching a movie at my place and the tape was advertised on TV. She wrote it down and said it looked like a good one. When she left the note on my end table I figured it was a hint that I should buy it for her. So I bought it. I gave it to her in a little Christmas stocking with a picture of glittery red shoes from the Wizard of Oz on the front. I put the tape in the stocking along with a heart-shaped necklace with matching earrings I bought at J.C. Penney’s for $99.

I guess my friends got tired of watching me break down after the breakup. My sister gave me the name of a therapist and said I should call her. I did call, but not before I tried to heal my broken heart through a series of dates with girls I met through an on-line dating sight. I thought it helped when some pretty girl told me I was handsome and she could just not understand why Amy had broken up with me. It did make me feel better. There were even a couple girls I thought would turn out to be the one. But none lasted more than 3 or 4 dates.

I saw the therapist just three times and she was brutal. As soon as I sat down on her couch I started crying and she handed me a box of tissues. That was nice. I told her about Amy at our first visit and about the internet dates on the second visit. At our third session, which lasted just 54 minutes, I started out crying, like always. Then, that therapist turned on me.

“Look at you”, she said. “You are a mess. I am not surprised these dates don’t last. Anyone who would be attracted to you the way you are would certainly not be someone you would want to be with a year from now.”

She told me to stop trying to get some woman to fix me and start working to fix myself.

She was probably right. It took five and a half months for my broken heart to heal after that. I spent those months reconnecting with some friends who had shied away from me. I think all the crying and going over the tragedy of my breakup was too much for them. So I swore off talking about Amy or even allowing myself to think about her. I went to movies with Sam, fishing with Aaron, and even took my little nephews to Chuck E Cheese a couple times. When I was ready, I got on line again:

Ronnie Hopgood, looking for a serious relationship. Age: 33 Occupation: Lab Technician Interests: Old movies and new relationships.

Ronnie – 33, Technician

Men come in as many different molds as women. Some are sensitive, thoughtful and attentive lovers. Some are callous, selfish and inattentive. I like to think I’m a balanced blend of the two, leaning perhaps toward the former. My past, though, was a different story.

I met Suzanne in high school. We were almost stereotypical students, she the shy, insecure girl, me the arrogant, confident athlete. We were actually good together. We spent a lot of our time laughing, which is usually an indicator of a good relationship. Maybe if we’d met later in life or if we hadn’t dated each other exclusively so young, things would have turned out better.

Secure in my relationship with Suzanne, I didn’t believe I could actually do anything that would hurt her. After all, if she didn’t know, it didn’t matter. Over the six years we were together, I fooled around with some other girls. It wasn’t a regular occurrence, but as someone once commented, it only takes one kiss to be unfaithful.

The beginning of the end was when Suzanne found out about my infidelities. She was surprised and truly heartbroken by what I had done. I hadn’t treated her as well overall as I should have. Because of that, Suzie had distanced herself a bit from me, but not enough to be unscathed by the cheating. When I realized what I had done to her, it hit me in the chest like a truck.

Of course when she left and it really settled in that  I was getting dumped because I screwed up thats when I felt horrible. I couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving me because I’d been so monstrous to her. I begged and cajoled and finally convinced her to give me another chance. I had no idea it was too late. During our brief time ‘back together,’ Suzie went out with other guys. Any feelings of love or commitment she had for me had been ground to dust by the way I had treated her.

The final breakup came and when the heartbreak settled in it was more than I could bear. I sat in my apartment and wished I would cease to exist. I was forced to face the person I was and I didn’t like him very well, which made spending all that time alone unbearable and getting over the broken heart seemed impossible.

While I was starting to get over the break up I spent a lot of time berating myself and wondering how Suzie had tolerated me all those years. I had no answer to that question. I only knew that I would no longer be that guy. The new me had arrived.

Jess, 39 – engineer