Heartbreak stories....got one?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

I’ve never seen the last season of the Sopranos, so while watcvhing it today, this came into my mind.

When AJ breaks up with Bianca he’s devastated. As much as I wanted to laugh and say “P***y-Boy” I can’t.I mean, who hasn’t had their heart broken? (if you can answer that with a yes, you’re a lucky person)

So what was your first, or most devastating heartbreak? I’m happily married now, but I still remember my first one and it hurt like hell. I had a friend, I’ll call him Len, and he had a girlfriend named,…well lets say Sue was her name. When they broke up I was out of town on business. I got back and found out. But Sue kept coming to my house. She eventually told me that she really loved me, but I rebuffed her at first out of respect for Len. Seriously.

but, being a guy, 2 weeks of resisting her feminine charms was the limit. But I told her I had tyo talk to my friend, Len, first before I could honestly “be with her” with a clear conscience. Len was not amused. He was really upset and it effectively ended our friendship even though in fact, I hadn’t done anything yet. Still, I was in love, or so I thought, so I went on. I think that was a big mistake in retrospect…I was the bad guy there, and I lost a friend over it. But with stars in my eyes I let myself go full throttle with Sue. Fkin’ Sue. We even talked about getting Married. I was moving and she was coming with me, she said. We were gonna have a family of our own she promised. F*in’ Sue.

Who after three months pulled the same crap with Len. In a scene much like Bianca’s breakup in the Sopranos she gave me a bag full of my stuff that was at her place and told me she was leaving me for Len. I was cmpletely torn to pieces. Part of it was the cold blooded way she did it. I really loved her a lot. At that point in my life I couldn’t imagine not being with her. and she just ripped that from me in one supercrushing morning. Maybe I sohlud have seen it coming. Its not like I hasdn’t had a girl turn me away before I hate to admit. But we were in love. She told me she loved me. She told me she’d always be with me. She had keys to my f’in house and would leave me love notes!

Yeah, I did the usual pleading, crying, denial and so on. I was so utterly crushed. It felt like someone had blown a hole through me and there was nothing left inside…just a cold, freezing breeze that blew through the hole. I couldn’t sleep or eat. This was 1990 and I still remember the awful feeling. My mother, my friends all tod me it would pass and they were right, but you know when your eart is broken, the pieces jab you in the side and you think it will never end. Thats one of the reasons I left town back then.

But you know, it does pass. Its just that when your in that initial heartbreak time seems to distorty like some freaked out black hole’s event horizon.

So anyone else ever had their heart totally smashed?

2

[hijack]Did you find out how Len handled her advances?[/hijack]. I don’t think you were the bad guy.

3

well, they got back together, but broke up again a few months after. I was a bit angry that he didn’t at least come to me, like I did for him. But I think he was still pissed at me for going with her in the first place. Last time I saw him was right after Desert Storm. I went home to visit another friend and he was in the area. I saw him getting into his car, but the only words I could say were “Don’t worry, I’m only here for a few days and you’ll never see me again”.

4

If you can answer that with a “yes,” then you’re a lucky, ungrammatical person, because it’s not a yes or no question. :stuck_out_tongue:

OK, I had one, which I’ve posted about before. I’m linking to it, because there’s nothing much to add. Oh, since then, I’ve admitted a few things like how after Ellie pissed me off, I could be just as manipulative as she was, and how it wasn’t like I hurt her completely unintentionally, which made me cruel to boot, although I really did feel bad about it afterwards–long afterwards, but I did regret hurting her. But the facts remained the same. She was unstable. She cheated. I finally walked and eventually found someone who was a better match for me thanks to what I learned from that relationship.

Richard Pryor once said that getting your heart broken by a woman you loved was like graduating with your diploma in the game. I’m going to have to agree with that. There’s no painless way to learn your limits here, and sometimes you have to get burned before you realize that fire is hot.

5

When I first moved out here in '96 I started dating Travis. Travis was hot, funny, cute, charming- always knew just the right thing to say. I was totally in love with Travis on every level. Travis also had a drinking problem and a violence problem. We would go to the bar and there’d be a good chance that he’d drink too much, and I would beat him at pool or smile at one of his friends, or some other such heinous crime, and when we got home he’d want to beat my ass. My 26 year-old legs were strong and swift, however, and so Travis would chase me down the street and never catch me. He’d go home eventually and pass out, and then I would come in and lay down with him and go to sleep. He’d call me at work the next day and tell me how sorry he was and how he wouldn’t do that anymore.

We did this for a few months. I hated it, but there were all these other stupendously great things about him, so I put up with it for that long because I really thought I could change him with my love. I now know that that doesn’t work and I run from guys like Travis on sight.

He’s married now, with 2 kids. His wife comes into the doctor’s office I work at- I know who she is but she doesn’t know who I am. I like her but she is incredibly unattractive with a lot of health problems. The night before his wedding 7 years ago, he called me in the middle of the night and left a drunken, sobbing message saying “goodbye forever”. The other day a mutual friend ran into him and he asked about me. My heart still jumps at the sound of his name. That was a huge heartbreak for me, and a huge lesson.

6

I’m pretty sure I’d mentioned this on the boards before, but here goes…
I was finishing up my nuc power training for the Navy, and had gotten close to a college chum of mine. We’d hang out on weekends when my schedule made that possible, and spent about five or six months like that, and talking or writing as well. She lived about 150 miles away, so other than the 96 hour liberty we got going from swing shift to mids it just wasn’t really possible to spend much time together. And we were both busy with schooling, so it was one weekend a month.

But we did enjoy ourselves and did a bit of snuggling. (Never got beyond that, in part, I think, because I only brought it up once, and then let it go.) Then I finished training and got my orders to my ship. We spent another weekend, I think, during that leave, and I went down to Norfolk to report.

And got sucked into in transit barracks.

While we were being treated like crap there (The Correctional Care Unit above us had better facilities. They at least got A/C.) there was damned little to do, and what jobs we got were invariably lousy crap the base personnel didn’t want to do themselves. So, I spent much of that time writing letters or calling her on the phone. We’d have lovely, long talks for hours. We mentioned, even, a few times, that we missed being together.

And I started to think, why not marry her? I liked her a lot, even if I wouldn’t say I was head-over-heels in love with her. But I did trust her. And that’s something which was even harder for me to accomplish.

Then I was talking to my former college roommate, who was a mutual friend, and he asked me if I’d heard that she was getting married this summer?

At which point my stubborn streak, and my idiocy, jumped up to make a bad situation worse: I decided I’d wait to see when she’d tell me about this. I’m no longer certain just exactly what my thinking had been. I think part of it was I didn’t want to appear to have been asking around about her through mutual friends. But part of it was, simply, I was furious, and hurt, and thought she should have had the courage and courtesy to tell me directly.

Though I did cool things off a little - claimed pressing duties kept me from calling as often, though I still wrote. And still called, just not for as often, nor as long.

I got to my ship, finally, and kept writing, and for the next 12 months, or so, kept writing, and calling from time to time. And I still wouldn’t ask about her engagement, or marriage.

After that time, she called me at the apartment I was sharing with a friend, and finally told me she was married, and had been for about six months by that point. And she just hadn’t quite known how to tell me. And I got my answer, finally.

7

The first time? My first wife. Fake wife really, we married for a visa, but we’d been together for a while. Precisely at the seven-year-itch period, she started disappearing for days at a time. One day, when she’d been missing for two days and two nights, I had a weird sixth-sense hunch where she’d be - so I walked into the pub my hunch had told me about, and there she was at the bar with this one guy. I asked if she was coming home any time. She did - the next day.

We broke up a few weeks later - at her suggestion and my eager acceptance, based on how shitty she’d been treating me for the previous few months - and I was fine for a week or two. But then I was hit by heartbreak.

I’ve never felt emotional pain like it. Stronger than any grief I’ve ever felt. I was beside myself - never knew what that meant before - pacing like a wild animal, making weird howling noises, with a buzzing freakout feeling in my chest that went on for weeks, impotent and wanting to do something but not knowing what it was I wanted to do: on one occasion, I smashed up a load of stuff in our bedroom with no conscious thought about what I was doing; it was primal. I would have done anything for her at that point. I would have had babies (though I am childless by choice), allowed her to walk on my head, get fucked up the ass, converted to a religion, I didn’t care. I was insane.

A few days after smashing up the bedroom I got a job offer that allowed me to leave the country, and I leapt at it. For months afterwards, living in the US, I drank myself to sleep every night, and the only person I spoke to was the guy in the convenience store who sold me my beer, and I was smoking three packs of cigarettes a day.

That was more than ten years ago. Slowly, slowly I recovered. I got over it, but it took a year or so to feel normal again. She got married to the same guy I found her in the pub with, in 2005 - I was at the wedding - and is just about to bear him their first child. I am happy for them.

And my most recent. As of yesterday.

I split up with my wife at Christmas, and despite the initial trauma it was in a fin-de-siecle, amicable fashion. My heart wasn’t broken, and we’re still good friends.

Afterwards, in a totally unplanned manner, I started dating this girl in a fairly casual manner around the beginning of February. We’d see each other two or three times a week, and she’d stay over at mine a lot. A couple of weeks ago she even got a toothbrush for my place, which made me smile.

Anyway, I was on vacation last week without her, and while I was away I had an epiphany about how much she meant to me, and in my heart I made a commitment to her. I was all fired up to let her know how I felt on my return yesterday, and to take the relationship up a few notches, which is something I sensed she was looking for.

Bad fucking timing.

According to her, the casualness of my attitude towards her in the past had made her reconsider everything while I was away, and she’s been trying to distance herself from her feelings for me.

Last night she called and left a voicemail saying despite everything, she loves me. Today she doesn’t want to speak to me. Tonight, I’m getting drunk.

8

jjim, I’ll raise a glass to you. It happened to me this morning. It was a very new relationship of one month duration, so it’s not on your scale, but I am still bummed. One day at a time.

It has happened to me twice before, but I’m not that good of a storyteller, so I will read everyone else’s and send a hug your ways.

9

Yup. It took me the best part of four years to get over.

10

I don’t want to hear a sad story.
We both already know how it goes.
But if, tonight, you’ll be my tall dark stranger,
I’ll be your San Antone Rose.~~Sung best by Emmylou Harris

11

Hadn’t dated for years, was mentally doing the “I guess I’m just going to end up alone for the rest of my life–love seems to be just for other people” bit.

Met (what I thought at the time anyway) a really nice, cute, funny etc… girl where I was working, and the friends who were on my reliable grapevine were telling me that–let’s call her Connie-- was really anxious to go out with me, but too shy to ask. So I asked her out. to dinner and a movie. (Oct. 11, 1991 7:00 PM )

Thins seemed to be going well, and I soon became Moon, Spoon,June head over heels in love with her. I got up the guts to tell her that a few months later, and all she did was just look at me and go back to watching the movie we had rented.

She told me about a week later that she loved me as well. So here I am at the top of the ladder, happy happy joy, joy–She loves me!!!

Then things start changing. She starts becoming sarcastic and nasty to be around, starts making negative comments about me and the relationship, and starts treating me like I was just some guy from work she knew (not her boyfriend) when we ran into people she knew.

Did I mention that I had called in a huge number of favors so that I could be off for both Thanksgiving and Christmas eve/Christmas day, thinking I would be invited to spend them together (go to her house, get paraded for the relatives, do whatever ritual her family followed for Christmas…I think we all know the drill)

Was then told over the phone, the night before Thanksgiving, that she was having Thanksgiving at her best friend’s house “like I always do.” I knew her best friend really well. We worked at the same place on the same shift. When work slowed down a bit, her friend and I would often B.S. about nothing in particular, trade jokes etc… I liked her best friend just fine and — she was one of the reliable sources who had told me that Connie had wanted to go out with me in the first place !

As you might have deduced by now, no Thanksgiving invite was offered. Just as well, as I spent the day throwing up from stress and worry. Had I done/said something wrong to make this happen?

We move along to Christmas. She seems to be a little less negative and sarcastic toward me, so I just put it down as “One of those dammed things that happen without any reason why.” and get ready for Christmas.

Substitute "family for “best friend,” "family’s house for “best friend’s” house, Christmas for Thanksgiving as described as above, and you now know who I didn’t spend Christmas with. Called in huge, monster, “If you need a Kidney” type favor to get those days off–Doubt I will ever get to call on that kind of payback ability in this life again.

Christmas for me consisted of half a PBJ–it was all I could force down my throat.

I realize by this time, each and every one of you who are reading this is screaming something like " why didn’t you cut yourself off from this girl, even if it takes a professional meat slicer?" or " Why didn’t you ask her to hold the open can of White gas while you play cigarette Butt Valet? (Excuse me sir but if you would like to put out your smoke before going back inside, you can just drop it in the top of the can the pretty lady over there is holding–we will take care of the rest)" In other words–get the hell out!!!

Unfortunately, I was born with a huge stubborn streak (more likely a stupid streak), I didn’t want to be alone again, I still loved her, despite the disaster the relationship already was, and I had seen too many other relationships fall apart, but by God, I was going to make this one work out, no matter what it took. Yeah–definitely a Stupid streak.

The close to all of this came one night after we were coming home from a movie. I asked her what was wrong and why things were happening that were hurting both of us and what we could do to fix it. I told her I loved her and i wanted us to stay together and be happy, but I didn’t know what to do–had I/was I doing something wrong? Could she tell me how to apologize or fix it.? What did she want–all she had to do was tell me and I would move heaven and earth to make it happen.

She then proceeded to tell me that she couldn’t tell me she loved me, and in fact she couldn’t say that she had ever loved me at all. She also said that she wasn’t even really sure she had wanted any kind of relationship with me at all.
She told me that there were reasons for why everything was going to hell, but:

She couldn’t explain what they were Or She could tell me why, but there was no way in the universe I could possibly understand ( not that I ever got a friggin chance to try, ) We bounced between those 2 options for at least an hour. Those were the only 2 reasons I ever got for why it had gone so bad.
She said she wanted time to think so we agreed that I would not call her or make any attempt to contact her until she had thought things out.

After 4 days of complete misery, constantly looking at the phone and answering machine, hearing “phantom rings” whenever I was not in direct sight of the phone, refusing to go anywhere or take a shower or bath because I might miss the phone,I got The Call.

She said she had decided we should break up, it was the best for both of us, she hoped we could still be friends, anything that went wrong was her fault— The entire contents of that revered,sacred and most holy " Breaking Up Script" that I’m sure everyone in the world has heard at one time or another.

So it was finally all over (March 17, 1992 12:20 PM)

So I proceeded to spend the next 2 years in absolute agony, eating what I didn’t throw up and drinking whatever booze was the cheapest at the time I had run out of the last bottle.

I actually broke one of my own “never rules” to try to find some answers and get out of the living hell my life had become. ( Rule: If you ever break up with someone, Never ever call them again for any reason-- it’s over and you either know why or don’t, and you’re not going to learn any more than what you already know." In complete and total violation of this rule, I and my buddy Potters Scotch called about a year later, to beg, yes " beg" (Stupid streak again) her to tell me what had happened between us. She said that she didn’t really remember our last conversations (I myself had it on “Repeat all” for the past 2 years, and reminded her of what had been said. )
She then began giving me the same two non-answers she had given before. She couldn’t t tell me the reason it happened the way it did, or I wouldn’t understand the reasons if she did mention them. Last time I spoke with her by choice.

In case you’re interested:

Finally did manage to recover from the whole mess–some parts still hurt, but nobody ever said that life wasn’t going to hurt sometimes. Currently married for 7 years to my Beautiful, smart and wonderful wife, 2 Daughters-- Beautiful just like mom, absolutely amazing to talk to, well read , smarter than both my wife and I together and pleased to announce they are both considerably taller than we are

I never saw a MD or psychiatrist about any of this, because I had no insurance and no money. I would call the offices, and they all seemed to be more worried about paysource than problems. No free or sliding scale Medical Program at that time. I knew I needed help, but couldn’t find or afford

I no longer drink alcohol–Too damm easy a way to kill emotional pain, without solving the problem that got you there.

Heard from very,very reliable source that about 3 years ago, Connie had been dating someone, and things were getting somewhat serious. From my source (highly trustworthy) Connie came home after a party to celebrate New Year’s and found every single thin6 she had ever gotten and given to this guy in front of her door (was raining like hell that night, and she didn’t have a porch or carport) with a note taped to the door that simply said “We’re Through” She wasn’t able to contact him after that, or else he was simply blocking her calls.

The wheel turns slowly at times my friends, but it does turn!

12

Ooh, ooh, I got one!

Last year, I met a girl and by means still unclear to me, we hit it off and started quite a beautiful relationship. Talk of marriage, lots of hot sex, weekends at the beach, Sunday morning breakfast, meet the parents — all that wonderful stuff. I was on top of the world. She was the first woman I ever seriously loved and I went at it full-bore. We both understood that she was going to leave for study abroad for a year, and were fully prepared for that separation, with the understanding that we would get married when she got back.

When she left, we kept in daily contact through Skype and instant messaging. Lots of sweet nothings whispered to each other over the internet, and some seriously deep conversations were had. I loved her more than ever, and she told me the same.

Last November, I went to visit her in Sweden, and sensed something was up the second I got off the plane. She sent a friend of hers to pick me up at the airport, and all week, she ignored me around her friends. She wouldn’t allow me to sleep in her bed. For a week, I froze my ass off on the floor. I was getting a little distressed at the whole thing, especially since she dumped me off with a friend of hers while she went out and about to social engagements I wasn’t invited to.

Fast forward to the end of the week. She was at a dance that I chose to not go to (I was invited, but I figured I would just be subject to more of the same cold shoulder that I had been getting all week). I packed my bags and met her at the train station. We broke up there, in the snow. I got on the train and spent the 14-hour flight home in emotional shell shock. When I got back, I found out she was seeing another guy. A couple of angry messages sent, and then she was out of my life forever.

I was a wreck for several months afterwards. I lost 10 pounds, picked up smoking and drank everything I could get my hands on. I must have oozed desperation and heartbreak. But it’s true, what they told me, that time heals all wounds, and coming up on a year later, I feel like a better person for the experience. At least now I’ve got a story to tell. She’s still going nuts over this guy, and now she’s 10,000 miles away from him in another country, and last I heard, they were talking marriage and all that other nonsense that she was so fixated on with me. Something tells me this guy is in for a ride…

13

I was 25 and his name was John. We knew of each other through mutual friends and they thought we would get along great. Our numbers were swapped and we ended up being on the phone talking for hours on end. He was the first guy that made me feel completely comfortable in my own skin. He made me feel like I was beautiful and special and I had never felt like that before.

I remember the first time we met. He came to my apartment to pick me up. He knocked on my door and when I opened it up to great him, he stepped in kissed me. No hello, how are you. Just this deep meaningful kiss that in the first time in my life, took breath away. It was amazing. Thinking about it now, I still get butterflies.

We hung out all the time. Sex was amazing. Everything was amazing. Any wall that I had created in my 25 years of life, he saw completely through them. There was no hiding what I felt or my bad day. He would always know and would always be there.

Then 3 months into the relationship he came to me and said, “What am I to you?” I was still being cautious and told him that I really cared for him, maybe even loved him… but I was scared to define us. He then said that since there wasn’t any thing “real” for him up in Maine, that he was moving to Florida. That he was given a job opportunity and he wanted to see where it would take it. I was completely shocked. I took a week to go over what I felt and even though I was scared of getting hurt again, I wanted to live in the moment just like he did.

It was to late. He accepted the job and told me that I was welcome to go with him, but that ultimately his life was in Florida now. Scared shitless, I told him that I wouldn’t go with him and begged him to stay here.

I remember him walking over to me where I was leaned against the wall, kissed me like the first time I had met him, and told me that he would see me before he left.

I never saw him again. We still talk through messenger and he still promises to see me when he comes back up here (Maine, sorry.) to see his family, though he never does. He lives in Costa Rica now.

Sucks. I never realized what I felt for him until it was to late. Hell maybe it is the other way around. Maybe I broke his heart by saying no to him… though him walking out that door and never seeing him again… shattered mine.

14

Wow! How long ago was this? THAT is harsh!

15

6 Years ago.