There really isn’t a whole lot to tell. Massive coronary last summer, instantly gone. I was a wreck for a while, but we had a pretty good relationship, and left very few loose ends, so I am doing quite well all things considered. This actually wasn’t an issue in my most recent relationship for more than a few minutes, because she wanted to be really sure that I was ready to date again. (I’m Bi, in case any of the pronouns are confusing anyone). We get along so well, that we decided to call off the romance part, for now, since that part wasn’t really clicking yet, anyway. I think we still have a chance at some point, though (can you tell I really dig her?).
Damned mind-readers.
Not me! I figured it was oral.
He stopped going down on me and became combative when I tried to talk about it. Actually, he became combative when we tried to talk about anything.
And he was excessively negative about everything- people who carry BAGS (no kidding), people who go to the gym, people who listen to anything but his favorite music, people who catch little fish instead of big fish, people whose wives are unattractive, etc. etc. etc. He also developed the notion that he knew what was best for me better than I did. THAT got old fast.
We had irreconcilable differences…he’s Klingon and I’m human.
Seriously, he thought it was hokey-dokey to have his barmaid girlfriend AND his wife and children at the same time. No, really. I am not making this up.
I reckon the divorce cleared that up for him.
Turns out she was.
1 - because he was an emotionally abusive, manipulating bastard and eventually I developed a modicum of self-esteem.
2 - because he hit me - once. Nobody gets a second chance at hitting me.
3 - many reasons - he was ashamed of me around his friends (I think I wasn’t girly enough), he was a lousy kisser, he was a hopeless ditherer about nearly everything… a nice guy, but I just got tired of it so I left. Then he decides that he really wants me but he was too late, because in the meantime I met Mr. Damn Right.
The SO I had before I started dating my husband had some of the weirdest ideas:
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He was absolutely convinced that I’d die of cancer if I ate any more than 5 grams of fat per meal. If I ordered something with cream sauce, he’d actually change my order if I went to the bathroom. If I managed to order and ingest fattening or potentially fattening food, he’d ask how my cancer trough was.
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He had a second major in classical music - he’d insist that to be a truly rounded individual (whatever that means), I had to know classical music. So every time we were together, he’d put in a CD and quiz me on which composer wrote the music and in which period.
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I was a size 4 when we met and when I “ballooned” to a size 6, he thought I was fat, which was probably one of the reasons for his behavior under #1. For the record, I’m now a size 12 - granted, I’ve got 10 pounds left to lose to reach my ideal BMI, but staying a size 4 was never in the cards for me.
I know there were other things about him that were weird, but these are the ones I can think of off the top of my head right now. When we first met and started dating, he was awesome - I have no idea what changed. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.
I am happy to report that I have never had any negative experiences with the opposite sex whatsoever.
This is not actually true, but I have been led to believe that everyone hereabouts has heard me complain about women too much already.
I take it you’re gay, then?
Yeah I saw the white font. Couldn’t resist.
Holy crap, these stories! Euthanasist that was simultaneously the greatest Pit rant and the most horrifying ex story rolled into one. I hope you don’t have to deal with her anymore.
This was very clearly all about anal sex. He’s a fucking asshole! 
Five years ago my grandmother was dying of cancer. My mother and I and hospice (angels) cared for her while she slowly died. So I wasn’t around alot and not really horny all the time. Previously to this time we had lots of great sex in that he had great control and I am/was? pretty uninhibited and easily orgasmic. I also used to genuinely get off on giving head.
He started fucking a young girl that worked at a strip club and gave me I guess the worst case of herpes ever, which I break out with all the time.
I chickened out on suicide (after selling/giving away ALL of my stuff oops)
I haven’t been with a man since. I don’t think I will ever. I have gained enough weight that men leave me alone for the most part. I don’t go out, why would I?
I know this sounds just terrible , but it’s true.
I will kill him, the question is when. Unless I chicken out again, and just off myself.
Matt found Jesus and I didn’t. He said he felt like he had to choose between me and God. Who could compete?
Ben was gay.
Ian…what can I say about Ian? What he said about me was, “You aren’t pretty, I don’t like you, I was only with you because I felt sorry for you.”
Mike lived in Michigan while I lived in Iowa and Missouri.
I don’t mean to insult you but I have to ask: is this a whoosh?
If not, I am very sorry for your suffering. Please consider getting therapy to help you deal with it. No one should have to live with such pain and hate, and neither should taking another person’s life (or your own) be a solution to it. You have my sincere condolences and best wishes. I can’t imagine I’d be much help, but if there is anything I can do, you need only ask.
(I had a couple of things to add and missed the edit window.)
For what it’s worth, I want to say that I do believe it is possible for you to recover from this, and in no way does it reflect badly on you to seek professional help. And it sounds to me that you didn’t chicken out of suicide, you chose not to because some part of you does want to live. Please listen to it.
man do I wish I was whooshing (say that 3 times fast)
I went to edit it, too late not sure if saying it will get me warned or what, I’ll see
Thanks for your concern, I just am too tired to try to fix myself now because I was already really fucked up before this happened.
As I posted in another thread once, I think I am just staying alive mostly to be able to do my addictions (now, gambling- no source for coke and I’m done with that, anyway)
When you realize this, you’re just marking time.
I don’t know what to say. I’m really sorry.
Pretty much this, in combination. This guy was the first time I’d truly fallen in love (I was 37). We were really good friends for about 2 and a half years, then we were dance partners for about 5 months and fell in love while practicing (dance! getchur minds outta the gutter :D).
It was basically a case of I was ready for LTC with him, (this wasn’t a case of any old man to "fill the position), and he wasn’t. We were together for a good 7 years (with three short breaks during that time), and I finally ended it at the beginning of 2004. I couldn’t stand the not knowing and the waiting anymore. We are still friends and it ended amicably, if painfully.
I haven’t dated since then. I just haven’t found anyone like him, with the added bonus of him wanting a relationship as much as I do.
Oh my turn, my turn!!
Where to begin, let’s see, let’s see…
For starters… he cheated on me… A LOT. Also, his cheats were not upgrades by any means, which makes it sting a smidgen more. We’re talking seriously trashy, whore-y, downgrades. Further, he had substance abuse problems. So much so that he landed himself in the psyc ward for 3 weeks after sleep deprivation due to drug use. In his drug addled state he called me, and told me to turn my TV to a fuzz channel, put it on it’s side, and turn the volume all the way up. If I did this, I would be able to experience the 3rd dimension. We were at different universities, so I was unaware of a majority of his new habits.
Clearly, a lot of issues. We dated in high school, and attempted to make it work long distance at different universities. Obviously, not my wisest choice.
The best part is I ran into him recently, after 3.5 years of being apart, at which point he told me he still loved me, and wondered why we broke up. I began listing names.
I’m so happy to be with my current SO!
Same. Then there was the one who, as it turned out, was a lesbian. Then there was the other one who turned out to be a lesbian (with my best friend–that one was painful), the, um, other one who turned out to be a lesbian (turns out it doesn’t hurt as bad the third time), the cheater, and the basket-case. I think that’s all of them.
Oh, and the mean, ugly one who I had nothing in common with (other than being Jewish and going to the same middle school). A couple of weeks later I realized that I didn’t have to settle. Eight years later, she’s Canadian, a lot nicer (natch), and a little better-looking (but not enough).
I remember that story. It was awful. 
I hope things get better for you.
That brings up an interesting question. If you get married and then become the same gender as your spouse, is your marriage automagically annulled?
Funny, I knew a Jack just like that. Ruined that threesome with his girlfriend, he did. (Well, the whole situation was pretty uncomfortable in general, but all the possessiveness didn’t help. Granted, I can understand being reluctant to share your girlfriend, but they were the ones who were all excited to bring me into their wacko almost-cult-like suburban sex-commune house. I came and went.)
Hmm… she pretended she was pregnant so I would marry her. When that didn’t work she pretended to get an abortion. 
Then she started fucking some other dude, so I broke it off, and then she really did get pregnant. Whoops. It would be funny if there weren’t a kid involved.