Break-Up Stories /True /Flex

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

Post your break-up stories here. They must be true. Face palm optional.

[RusskyParticipant 13503]

She was f~~~ing somebody else. End of story

proud carrier of the 'why?' chromosome

[Soldier-MedicParticipant 2566]

I couldn’t stand her crazy bulls~~~ anymore.  It was either a divorce or prison.

"I asked you a question. I didn't ask you to repeat what the voices in you head are telling you" ~ Me. ........Yes I'm still angry.

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

I’ll start with one of my fav’s. but first: I’ve been MGHOW since my divorce in 2008, though I only recently learned of other MGTOW.  So, anyway, I was dating a really cool chick a few years ago.  I say dating, but we only hung out a few times over the course of 2 months.  The relationship dynamic was great: I’m alpha, she thrived on it.  We had sex twice, and she was a f~~~ing awesome all-night lay.  5’4″ 115lbs.  Dick-puppet.  She could go 2 weeks w/o texting or calling.  I was digging it.  Really digging it.

So, I travel a lot, and I was on a job in Wyoming, and she lived in Colorado; so I called and told her drive up to see me.  We meet at a hotel, she changes into her lingerie, and we begin.  Like I said, she’s an amazing lay, multiple o’s and all.  Round 3 comes around like an hour or so later, and mid-thrust she says “I Love You”.  I stopped.  Immediately.  Mid-thrust.  I closed my eyes, laid my forehead on her shoulder. I thought to myself ‘f~~~’.  ‘F~~~ F~~~ F~~~’.  ‘This bitch doesn’t even know my last name. I sure as hell don’t know hers’. ‘Godmutherf~~~ingdamnit.’  ‘Had to go and f~~~ it up’.

I sighed, rolled over onto my back, sat up, put on my pants and shoes, grabbed my keys, phone, and wallet, and walked out the door.  She didn’t say a word.  I didn’t say a word.  I left my favorite t-shirt and a good pair of socks behind.  I wish I had looked for my shirt.  She can keep the socks.

She texted the next morning that she was sorry.  I did not reply.  She called after lunch.  I did not answer.  She left a short voicemail saying she understood.  Like I said, really cool chick.  I deleted her number and erased the txt thread, slut-shots and all.

I’m glad it happened, because it’s hard to walk away from good sex.  But if I had said it back to her, I’d have been fuct.  If I didn’t say it back, I’d have been fuct.  I played it the only way I could.  I got the hell out.  Though, she is at the very top of my spank bank, and probably will be for awhile =)

 

[RusskyParticipant 13503]

Did the T-shirt say “MGTOW”?

proud carrier of the 'why?' chromosome

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

One more before bed.  I was dating a girl a couple of years ago in Austin.  We had been out a few times over the course of a month and had only had sex twice.  We were going downtown, to get a bite, watch a band, and drink; you know, Austin.  Anyway, I am driving in my truck, looking for a parking spot that can fit something larger than a prius, when she starts showing off her new purse to me.  I don’t remember the designer, but I remember that it cost $400.  That’s always a red-flag.  But hey, if she can afford it, I’m happy for her.  So we have a long dinner and leave to go to the bars.  I am driving along, looking for another parking spot, when she says “Can I ask you a big favor?”  “Sure”, I say.  “Will you loan me some money.  I am late on my car payment, and I really need the money.”  I almost had a stroke.  I f~~~ing saw red.  I almost blacked out with rage.  I lost peripheral vision.  I slowed the truck to a stop and unlocked the doors.  I told her, “Hey, jump out here, I’ll park in that pay lot and meet ya here.”  She said “What?”  I repeated, “Jump-out here, I’ll park in the pay lot and meet ya here.”  She said, “OK”.  I never even looked in the rearview mirror.  Had to turn my phone off for a couple days, but, whatever.

I almost fell into the abyss on her gold-digging ass.  The only winning move was to get the f~~~ away from her before I did something stupid.  She has no idea how close she came.  I sometimes regret not telling her off, but it was not an option.  I’m sure you understand. =)

 

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

I WISH!  Would have been epic for her to google that one.  It  was a Velvet Underground shirt.  Fit perfect, soft material, great image, etc.

[BrainPilotParticipant 7640]

The parking breakup is great. I wish I had something that entertaining. The other one seems like a text book example of how to handle the attempt at emotional ensnarement. Probably best one I have is a drama queen girl with bad temper who broke up with me about 7 times in less than a year of dating (back in blue pill days when I would tolerate things like this).

Finally, she broke up and I stayed broke up. Naturally, she marries the next guy who agrees to go out with her, after only a few months of dating. Within a few months after that, she’s downstairs at her (2 story) house drunk dialing me at 3 in the morning while he sleeps upstairs… ‘Called to tell me what a horrible mistake she made… how miserable she is without me… how I was the best thing… blah, blah, blah (insert usual drunk woman BS here). I talk to her for a few minutes finding this alternately both comical and pathetic. She’s alternating between bawling, frustration, and trying to flirt, or guilt-sympathy me into taking her back (like how the hell is that supposed to work now that she’s married to someone else?)…

Finally she bawls, “WE’RE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER… I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY WE’RE NOT TOGETHER…!!!”

To which I responded, “Well dear, you broke up with me 8 times… and I only got back together with you 7 times… so if you JUST DO THE MATH, you’ll understand why we’re not together…”

Her: “Bastard!!!” (Click)

Me: “hehehe….Zzzzzz” 😀

Look, it's not my fault that tornado dropped a house on your sister. Now get back on your broom and get your ass out of here... and take your monkeys with you

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

BrainPilot wrote:

Her: “Bastard!!!” (Click) Me: “hehehe….Zzzzzz”

What a psycho, the best thing that ever happened to her was, in her words, a bastard.  ForF~~~sSakeBitch, here’s a bottle of wine, a bottle of ludes, and a copy of ‘The Bell Jar’.  Go run yourself a nice warm bath.  It’s ok to go to sleep for just a little while….

 

 

[EnlightenedMGTOWParticipant 291]

She started trying to use sex as a “reward”and got dumped the same day. End of story.

Marriage is the disease, divorce is the cure. MGTOW is the vaccine.

[RoyDalParticipant]

* One hospital-quality crazy who happened to be married.
* Two alcoholics.
* A few climbers of the social latter who stepped on my head on their ways up.
* A few more who simply wandered off because they felt like it.

Good riddance.

BTW, those who broke up with me, or thought they did, are the ones who didn’t come back to haunt me late on. When I broke it off, I had a stalker on my hands.

Society asks MGTOWs: Why are you not making more tax-slaves?

[SargeslideParticipant 82]

F~~~ing insecure, controlling psycho hose beast. I was less of a man, and finally woke up to my real situation, corrected my course and No Fault divorced her ass! Best thing I ever did for my sanity.

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

got another one.  this one is more asshole and less funny.  for some dumb reason, I moved in with a chick I was dating in college.  thought I’d save some money by splitting bills with her, hah. problem was, she already had a roommate with her own live-in bf.  we all had fun at first, but the roomie couple were waaay hippie.  like the early 90’s version of sjw’s.  patchouli, hare krishna, drum circle, vegan, dirt-wallering hippies.  don’t get me wrong, love me some hippies, but these 2 were so f~~~ing preachy — and WRONG about everything.

it became unbearable for me and I decided to end it.  understand, the girl I was dating did nothing wrong.  I just wanted to sow my oats, and they were a convenient excuse for me to move out.  so I got a place in the bar district.  she and I spent the whole day moving my stuff out (storage, etc.)  when we were done, she left to go take a shower.  we were supposed to meet up that night to go to dinner.  you already know I wasn’t down for that.  this is in the land before cell phones ppl, and I didn’t have phone service yet.  I stood her up.

she came by the new pad to see what was up.  I told her “thanks for helping me move.  this isn’t working out for me.  I don’t want to see you anymore.” she called me an asshole and left.  I never gave her my new number.  don’t know what happened to her.

I truly miss the days before cell phones.

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

While a senior in high school, I scored a sheet of acid.  I had done it a couple times before, and loved it, so I decided to pony up and get enough for my mates to try some too.  My buddy had a place out in the country and his parents were out of town, so we had a safe place to dose.  We started with 3 hits each, and ate more as the night progressed.  I was dating the f~~~ing head cheerleader, who was a goodie 2 shoes type of c~~~ who would do everything except penetration.  But she was smokin’ hot so whatever – you know how that goes in high school.  Anyway, I was trippin’ ballz with the close circle when they started calling people to come over and bring beer.  I thought it was a bad idea, but it ended up being a legendary party.

The new girl in school came out to the farm, and she was sooo hot and sooo slutty, I just had to get me some.  So I’m standing in the kitchen when she found me.  I didn’t say a word, just pulled her in close and started making out with her.  It got very hot very fast, and within like a minute I was getting a hand-job with like 20 people around.  Freakin’ awesome!  I remember my bros cheering me on as I pushed her to her knees and put my dick in her mouth.  The place erupted into cheering!  I felt like a god, leaned back against the counter, tilted my head up, and closed my eyes.

I didn’t notice at first, but a few (minutes or seconds who knows right) later, the room went quiet and people started filing out of the kitchen.  When I looked out, guess who was standing there.  Yep.  No s~~~.  I pushed the skank to the ground and pulled ’em up, fumbled with the zipper, and walked to my girlfriend.  She didn’t move.  If looks could kill, heh.  The c~~~~~~~~~ ran out of the kitchen and I said to my girlfriend, “What?”.  O f~~~ man this chick came unglued.  I was trippin’ so I don’t remember exactly what she was saying, but I steadfastly denied that anything happened.  I will never forget though, I said to her, “Who are you going to believe, ME or your lying eyes?”  The onlookers in the other room and in the hallway erupted with laughter.  Her eyes glazed over as her face turned beet f~~~ing red.  She came at me like a f~~~ing puma.  Now, when you are tripping as hard as was I, time can slow down.  I was in the zone, duck, weave, dodge, block.  I was laughing so hard, adding fire to the inferno that was her rage and futility.  Within seconds my bro’s swooped in to rescue me from the barrage of attacks.  I couldn’t stop laughing.  You ever been tripping and laughing uncontrollably?  Yeah, me too.  Anyway, as they were dragging her out of the kitchen, I said, “O by the way, I had sex with your mom last week” (true).  She took out one of my mates and almost made it to me before she was tackled.  I could not stop laughing.  My bros were laughing so hard they could hardly hold her.  She was a f~~~ing Tasmanian devil.  There was blood.

I was escorted out of the kitchen into a bedroom.  With the door securely locked, I waited for the all clear.  Still in the throes of laughter, I heard a crash outside.  The bitch t-boned my car, and tore ass out of there.  It was supreme, I didn’t even care about the car.  Until the next day of course.  Anyway, the party was epic, and the break-up was priceless.  Had to share that one.

PS – I know you guys have some good ones, I didn’t book this post as a solo gig, so gimme a good one or 2.

[foolsgoldParticipant 5645]

I was seeing this girl when I was 19. She was 17 and in her senior year. I was straight as an arrow. Didn’t drink or use drugs. We had sex a few times. She was experimenting with drugs with her “friends”. One day I call her and her dad answers. Yes, this is before cells and the very beginning of caller ID. Her dad told me that she was not allowed to see me anymore. He didn’t give a reason. I politely agreed and told him that he was the one that was going to tell her of his decision. I got out of telling her. He just assumed that I was the cause of her use of drugs. I probably would have thought the same thing.

Almost 30 years later I found out I would have been in for a nightmare. She has had 4 kids by 3 different men. She has been in and out of treatment several times. Her dad actually has told me he was sorry when he found out otherwise. No apology from the mother. Go figure, huh? It’s a sad story that I have never shared before. I figured this would be the time to share it. I was the only winner in that situation. I wish I would have learned my lesson after that. Better late than never though.

[AkibarangerParticipant 37]

She was an ice queen who wouldn’t speak to me unless I gave her money, Never told me she loved me, was attracted to me, no sex, no emotional support of any kind, just an ice queen.

Almost married her,  decided to do some soul searching and some reading and found that the constant of when I was unhappy seemed to be when I was dating someone (I’ve always had a girlfriend/never had trouble getting women) and thus decided to go my own way when she told me she didn’t love me anymore when I decided to leave my job for university to pursue my dream job.

And on that day when she told me you know what I did?

I never yelled or hit her or anything, I just decided that I would go out and think so I grabbed my car, packed it with camping equipment and headed for the bush. I stayed there for a while and I came back with a new sense of self-love and happiness I thought I’d never feel again. What going my own way is for me, is embracing my inner weeb and bettering myself for myself.

I used to be the guy who said “I’d love to but my fiancee…” now I’m the guy who works his ass off building in the day, working out till I’m collapsing and singing karaoke at night and I couldn’t be happier.

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

Akibaranger wrote:

I used to be the guy who said “I’d love to but my fiancee…” now I’m the guy who works his ass off building in the day, working out till I’m collapsing and singing karaoke at night and I couldn’t be happier.

Sweet bro.  Sounds like you have experienced the difference between living and thriving.  I couldn’t be happier for ya.

[Quiet ThomParticipant 116]

The first woman I dated after my wife passed away initially came across as smart, pretty, had a great sense of humor, was fun in bed, and was a superb cook. Then, at about 5 months, the s~~~ started. She wanted me to move in with her. By that, I mean that she wanted me to sell my house and she would sell her house and we would buy a house together. Oh, f~~~ no I said to myself. I told her I wasn’t ready for that especially after only 5 months. Then came the four words that every man dreads….WE HAVE TO TALK. It has been my experience that this is never good. For me. She said that I was a long distance (70 miles) boyfriend and that she didn’t want a long distance boyfriend. I wasn’t very upset about that at that point because I had about enough of her using sex as a reward and other manipulative s~~~. So, I told her that I’d come and get my stuff at her house and get my $1500 wet saw that I let a friend of hers borrow. She bellowed like a wounded steer. WELL….YOU’RE IN A HURRY TO LEAVE!!! I was a bit confused at this because, if I want someone to leave, the nicest thing they could do for me is pack their stuff and vacate the premises. “I’m busy today”, she said. “How about tomorrow?” I asked. “I’m busy then, too”. was her reply. I see. She felt the need to jerk me around just to show who’s boss. “Okay, no problem.” I said in a friendly tone. “Just call me when you’re available and I’ll come if I can.” I’m certain I was the main topic between her and her girlfriends. I could envision them yacking about how they would handle me. Asshats. A week went by and I was pleasantly surprised about how happy not having her around made me feel. I didn’t miss her at all. Then, she called me on the following Thursday and asked if I would come. I cordially said “Certainly”. I arrived with my suitcases to gather my clothes and stuff, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and looked forward to never seeing her again after today. But, and there always seems to be a but, it got a bit complicated. “Would you mind coming outside?” she asked sweetly. On her back patio, she had put together a cold cut tray with cheeses and olives. There was a fine cabernet that she had opened an hour before and was ready for our consumption. “What the f~~~ is this?” I said to myself. I told her it was very nice, but it’s best that I pack my stuff and go. She then told me that she had reconsidered and said that a part time boyfriend was better than none. I swear that’s what she said. I was fuming but I didn’t tip my hand. Okay, let’s eat and drink. I knew this was a trap, but I saw opportunity. After the fine food and drink, I took her to bed and used her like the whore she was. I have never sexually abused a woman like that before (or since) and she seemed to f~~~ing love it! I say “seemed to” because you can never be sure about these things with a female. I used every hole her body had and woke her up in the middle of the night to do it again…..and we went one more time in the morning. I knew she wouldn’t refuse me anything because sex is how she planned to seal the deal and my fate. When I was done with her, she was a hurting unit. F~~~ed up, right? Now, here’s the rest of my diabolical plan. Prior to her deciding that she didn’t want a part time boyfriend, we had scheduled a 10 day vacation at the beach home that her late father had willed her. I had never done anything like that so I decided to put up with her just long enough to experience it. It was a fun/free vacation. In the meantime and undercover, I planned my escape. I slowly changed the clothes I kept at her house with work clothes I didn’t care about. She never noticed. I got my wet saw back from her friend…told him that I needed it. I was ready to become mobile when the next s~~~ storm came. And, she didn’t disappoint. We went out for a bite to eat and she got drunk as she usually did. She could barely keep from falling out of her chair. I had a pleasant glow, but knew when to say when. We left the bar (I walked, she stumbled) and on the way out and for the drive to her house she was a total c~~~. Her insults were so horrible, they made me laugh. She was in rare form. I will admit that she did get under my skin and I found myself looking at her and thinking that with one short right uppercut, I could shut her off like a f~~~ing light switch and then tell her her lump was caused by her falling out of the car. Ahh, f~~~ it, I thought….it would be just my luck that the punch would kill her. Anyhow, I got her to her house, got her safely inside, and told her I was going home. I told her it was obvious that she was angry with me and we could talk about it tomorrow when cooler heads would prevail. She blocked me from leaving. Now, I’m really considering that uppercut. She said something awful and then staggered into the kitchen. I picked up my overnight bag and bolted. I started my vehicle and guess who comes waddling down the walkway and plants herself in front of my van so I can’t leave? Yes, indeed…the drunk ass bitch. I got out of the van and asked her to move. She bellowed “IF YOU LEAVE NOW, DON’T EVER COME BACK!!!” I swear I heard angels singing Hallelujah. I took her house key off my ring and handed it to her in one fluid motion. She bowed her head looking dejected and moved out of the way. I jumped in the van and got out of Dodge as fast as I could. I swear I was singing all the way home. I couldn’t stop smiling. Talk about tasting the sweet nectar of freedom! Of course she contacted me the next day in an email and of course she didn’t remember anything she did or said. How f~~~ing convenient. I did write back to tell her that we were done and that she had me but she drove me away. I also asked her to get some help for her own good. Predictably, she tried twice to get me back swearing to change. SURE you’ll change….for a week or maybe two. I politely declined. My Mom didn’t raised any idiots, just kids that get mean when you f~~~ with them.

I have a few other stories on this subject that I’ll write about in the future.

[RedHeadedStrangerParticipant 204]

Quiet Thom wrote:

My Mom didn’t raised any idiots, just kids that get mean when you f~~~ with them.

haha finally someone with some p~~~ in them!  Well played.

Just some advice: uppercuts are more likely to break jaws and teeth than would a simple back-hand.  I save my uppercuts for the badass blokes.  It’s less time in the poke — and a lot more humiliating when he only gets the back of my hand.

 

[BrainPilotParticipant 7640]

Well played Thom,

Telling a woman ‘no’ can almost always be expected to produce some drama.  You handled yours very well.

As I’ve written elsewhere, I remain convinced that the best way to respond to a woman getting physically violent with me is pepper spray or a taser.  Pepper spray has a long distinguished reputation as a defensive weapon, and women have jokingly compared it to bug spray (for pest control) when used against men.  Being pepper sprayed carries with it such a significant social stigma that I suspect that spraying an attacking woman with it might even go unreported.  (How is that 911 call going to go?  “My big strong violent abusive boyfriend sprayed me like a roach with a rape-defense device…”).

The second reason I like this idea so much is that it neutralizes the argument I’ve heard some women use to explain why it’s ok for a woman to hit a man but not ok for a man to hit back (namely, that the man is stronger so the inequality of his otherwise identical response is therefore oppressive).

Pepper spray treats everyone exactly the same.

None of this should be interpreted to mean that I would criticize the uppercut strategy outlined above in order to give violent women a chance to experience ‘equality’ with violent men.  It’s just that in my career, I couldn’t afford the possible legal fallout of using the uppercut.

‘Looking forward to reading more of your posts.  I suspect we have had some very similar experiences …

Look, it's not my fault that tornado dropped a house on your sister. Now get back on your broom and get your ass out of here... and take your monkeys with you

[Author]

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