Bizarre breakup stories

I was in what could best be described as an "unhealthy relationship" throughout my college years with a girl I started dating in high school.  My self esteem issues coupled with her codependency issues made for a volatile mix that often erupted in fireworks.  After 5 years of the ups and downs, I was looking for an out when she gave it to me one day on campus by blowing up over something stupid my buddy and I were doing.  I told her right then and there we were done and left the table my group of friends were sitting at.  This was early October for a point of reference.

Unfortunately we took the same math class, but she had class an hour before I did.  It was in the same classroom though, so we'd pass each other in the hall.  Needless to say after that, I quit going to class.  I had a syllabus and kept up with the assignments and exams though, so that wasn't an issue.  

Well, it wasn't until the day of the last exam before finals.  It was a dreary rainy December morning, one of those days you'd rather stay in bed than be anywhere.  I was already in a fairly foul mood after driving to class in the funk, but was hopeful I'd miss her.  But as luck would have it, she spotted me in the hall outside the classroom when she got out of class.

She came up to me and said hi.  I was polite and told her hi and asked how was life treating her.  Seemed like a civil conversation for about a minute when she point blank asked me "did you key my car?"  She had a pretty nice Probe GT at the time that her Dad gave her, and she was justifiably proud of the car.  But I had no reason whatsoever to vandalize her car, and the last thing I wanted to do at that point in time was run into her somewhere that it wasn't necessary.  So of course I denied it, and told her I had no reason to key her car.

Well, that obviously wasn't what she wanted to hear.  She blew up at me in the hallway, now in front of about 80 people waiting to go into their respective classes.  MF'ing me, cursing me, yelling, the whole 9 crazy yards.  I wasn't going to stand there and take it, so I picked up my bag to go to class, told her bye (probably not in the nicest way), and turned around to walk into class.

Remember where I said it was raining that morning?  She was carrying a golf umbrella because of the rain.  Did I mention she played softball all through high school and was a pitcher and power hitter?  Do you see where this is going?

When I turned my back to her, she dropped her backpack, picked up the umbrella like a bat, and swung it at the side of my head in a fashion that would have made Mark McGwire proud.  Luckily she was a bit low, so it grazed my backpack before connecting with my head.  I turned around, yelled at her a bit, and then took off to find the campus police.  I got out the building, but no cops were nearby.  Not wanting to fail the class, I went back in and took the exam (and got a B).  

After I got out of the exam I called campus police and reported the incident.  But since I didn't have any witnesses they weren't too cooperative in taking a report.  At this point I was livid, so I just bailed on the day and went home.

When I got home my phone was ringing off the hook, and it was her screaming like a psychotic banshee.  I'd hang up and she'd call back doing the same thing.  This went on for about 30 minutes until by some stroke of luck my Mom happened to call.  I told her what was going on and she called her friend with the local PD.  

He sent an officer over to take a report.  By this point she had quit calling the house.  Of course we didn't have caller ID at the time (Dad was cheap), so he couldn't verify it was her calling.  And her incoherent wailing on the answering machine wasn't enough for him to do anything with.  But as he was about to leave, the phone rang again.  It was her.

He got on the phone with her, asked if it was her, informed her he was a policeman with the local PD, and told her she'd be arrested if she called again.  Needless to say, it finally stopped.  I didn't hear from her again until I saw her at a parade a couple months later, while I was there with someone cuter than her.  

Originally posted by BrianRunsPhilly

Originally posted by KSH WOW! That chick was crazy! Ha! Seriously competitive.

Yes, very cray-cray, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it was worth it

Barney Stinson Crazy Hot Scale.

Originally posted by RussTKD

Originally posted by BrianRunsPhilly

Originally posted by KSH WOW! That chick was crazy! Ha! Seriously competitive.

Yes, very cray-cray, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it was worth it

 

Barney Stinson Crazy Hot Scale.

That bit is hilarious! 

Great story! What a biach. Glad you don't regret it. 

Originally posted by BrianRunsPhilly By popular demand as started in another thread, here is my marathon breakup story. I had a good friend who was part of a small group that ran together and trained and did a couple marathons. Anyway we started dating and kept running with the group, and she and I decided we wanted to run Boston together. We ran the Philly Marathon, I BQ'd and she missed it by 3 minutes. Told her we could train that winter and do a spring marathon and I'd pace her. She trained like a maniac and our relationship got pretty hot and heavy. Oh, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out she was smoking hot. To the point where my friends hassled me about why the heck would she go out with ME. Good friends, right? Anyway, we get to race day, all of us are there. She is really nervous. We take off and she's looking great. We hit the halfway mark and she's 10 minutes under her BQ time. Then she gets sick, some kind of intestinal issue. Now's she's stopping for the porta-potty and her time is slipping. I'm trying to keep her going and she's getting frustrated and angry. By mile 18 I can see she's really sick and we should stop. One I said that, she starts yelling at me. So I start pacing her again, and she can't hold pace, and now it's my fault. By mile 20 she's full blown screaming at me and telling me what an a-hole I am. Then she starts crying. Around mile 22 she's so dehydrated from the runs she falls. I go to pick her up and she slaps at me, so now I'm getting p-ssed too. We walk a little, run a little, no talking. The last mile she says f-this and takes off running, makes sure she cuts me off in the finishers chute to pass me, and the race is finally over. We go back to the hotel room and she tells me she can't date anyone who is faster than she is (no lie!) and we're done. I talk to her a couple times after that, but no real explanation, nothing really said. She stops running with us and also cuts off all contact with the group of people we've been training and going out with for a post-run beer for the last 4 years. Oh, still see her at races every now and then. Last year there was a race picture of me and you can see her in the background

We are going to need to see this pic in order to verify your previous claims. 

Originally posted by RussTKD

Originally posted by BrianRunsPhilly

Originally posted by KSH WOW! That chick was crazy! Ha! Seriously competitive.

Yes, very cray-cray, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it was worth it

 

Barney Stinson Crazy Hot Scale.

Beat me to it!  Ah well...the hot crazy ones are fun while they last!

Love this. ^  Suck it beotch.

I've written a bad break up post before, but I need to go track it down and clean it up a bit for BT. 

This thread has so much potential.  Seriously.  C'mon, post up.

Disclaimer: It’s a freaking novel. I would have made it shorter if I had more time…

I went to an Episcopal boarding school for high school. This school, though coed, had two separate campuses 4.5 miles apart and bussed students back and forth for activities and classes. By 6pm girls and boys were on their respective campuses, unless they had an activity on the other campus.

My junior year I was dating a really nice guy, Dave. I was his first girlfriend. We had started dating in the fall, and we were both going to Australia for Christmas (his Dad had been transferred there for work, my Dad lived there full time), and our parents had arranged for us to fly to and from Australia together.

The day before Christmas break, I was on the boy’s campus at night for choir practice. In the middle of practice, I had to go to the bathroom, and as there were no bathrooms in the chapel, I had to go to the school building to use the facilities. As I was walking to the bathroom, I ran into our class “bad boy”, Ed. We had always had good chemistry, but had never hooked up. He asked what I was doing, and I said I was on campus for choir and was just going to the bathroom.

When I came out of the bathroom, he was standing there and said, “What are you doing now?” (Really, the only words that were said. So hot.) And, with that, we disappeared into a classroom. Twenty minutes later, I was back at choir practice wondering what the hell I’d just done and hoping that Ed would keep his mouth shut.

No, I didn’t tell Dave. We went to Australia, and had a great time. Ed, of course, did not keep his mouth shut, and when we got back from break, Dave found out, was pissed, and we broke up. I convinced him to give me another chance, and we started dating again. Dave hated Ed, and as this was boarding school, everyone knew everyone else’s business and felt compelled to take sides. Seriously, silly high school boys—“Team Dave” and “Team Ed”.

The week before spring break, I was headed to one of the common rooms in the basement of a dorm to go hang out during a free period—almost everyone was in class. Girls were not allowed in boy’s dorms, except in the hallways en route to the common rooms. I was wearing a skirt that was a few inches above the knee and red suede boots that came up about three inches over the knee—OK, so tall, red boots. On my way to the common room, I ran into Ed in the hallway. He just shook his head and said “nice boots”, and took my arm and steered me to his room, which was right off the main hallway. The guy was way ahead of his time.

We didn’t think anyone had seen us, but after being in his room for maybe 5 minutes, two guys from “Team Dave” busted in, one with a Polaroid camera (dating myself here) and snapped a pic. The whole things happened in maybe 2 seconds. We scrambled, he went after them to kick azz and get the pic, and I got the hell out of there as quickly as possible, as at my school being in a boy’s room or having sex were offenses that could get you expelled.

As I mentioned, the girls and boys were on separate campuses during the evening, but by dinner time, rumors of what had happened were flying among the students, and I was sweating it because I did not want faculty to find out. Dinner was relatively formal (not quite Hogwarts, OK, but picture a few notches down from there, and you get the idea), faculty sat at the tables with students, and after dinner one of the senior prefects read announcements, which always had to be approved by the head faculty member before being read. It was an ongoing contest among the boys to see if they could sneak in a funny or inappropriate announcement.

Apparently, that night at dinner, the last announcement that was read* was “Could Ed ____ please report to A3 (the table of the photographer) to pick up his photos,” at which point the entire dining room erupted. Poor Dave. Ugh. The faculty, of course, wanted to know what the joke was about, and by 9am the next morning, I was called into the headmaster’s office with my advisor and rowing coach. They ended up having to go into a “disciplinary committee meeting” with multiple faculty members and a few “head” students. I ended up getting 60 hours of janitorial work over spring break as my punishment, but I will never forget my advisor telling me over drinks graduation evening that the “nadir of his tenure was having to defend a student over a pic of her in only red boots.” Brutal.

Though Dave wouldn’t speak to me at all (and who could blame him), he did contact me by email 12 years later and things were copacetic.

*I was going over this story with a high school buddy a few months ago, and she reminded me that it was Seth MacFarlane who had read the announcement (Bastard! JK, he was a good guy.  I had forgotten that he was the prefect who read it, but it makes the story extra funny now, I guess).

I may have hacked into my boyfriend's e-mail account and found most lurid and graphic evidence of continuing encounters with some shockingly young (barely legal) girls, all vulnerable types. He'd given some of them gifts that I'd given him. One was a Swedish (Satanist) porn star. Hard to blame him on that one.

While I was licking my wounds, had a rebounder with this fantastic guy who somehow reminded me of the boyfriend, but was like the grown-up, non-effed-up version. I was sitting with him in a coffee shop when the ex-boyfriend walked in, came RIGHT UP to us, and said, "I see you've met my Uncle Mike."

Yep, this guy was his uncle. They came from a (to put it mildly) highly dysfunctional family where members tended to die early in nasty ways, so it was pretty much just the two left. Uncle Mike was holding on to all the family heirlooms to give to my ex at some later time. But Mike was so angry about what his nephew had been doing that ...

He let me sell my ex's inheritance on E-bay and keep 10% of everything. There were some amazing things in there--classic books from the 1700s and 1800s, first editions; a classic motorbike; an incredible coin collection and much more. It financed my move back home to Indonesia

That is one great story Switch, thank you for sharing!  You have inspired me and if I get a break here later I'll pick from my gaggle of breakup horror stories and post one.

I wouldn't classify this as a "breakup" since we only dated for a few months.

But one day me and this guy got into a spectacular argument over empathy and compassion, which revealed all I needed to know about his character. We had plans to watch a basketball game with my friends at a sports bar later that day - after my 2-hour ride. I left for the ride and just shook my head the entire time, planning to have a serious talk after the game that night.

I return home to see a note taped to my door - saying that "something came up" (he seriously wrote "something came up" - didn't even make up a good excuse!) and he had to get back home (to another state, he commuted across state lines) ASAP. I texted him "seriously?!" and he responded with a series of texts about how I misinterpreted the compassion conversation and put words into his mouth, etc.

[[[ So even if I did misinterpret the phrase, and I quote, "I only care about myself", end quote, his communication skills left more to be desired than I was willing to work with. But I digress. ]]]

So instead of communicating like a rational adult, he literally skips town and leaves a fake excuse letter on my door. Maturity level = 5th grade at best.

I had something similar happen to me in high school and I always felt bad about it. What's up with the power of bad boys?

Let's see, my high school boyfriend was just a little possessive. He was my first real boyfriend so being the immature high school girl I was, all of my self esteem was wrapped up in us being a couple. I did not willingly see the signs and things creeped up slowly. First he would approve what I wore - wearing white pants or skirts was a no no. Next he didn't want me to spend time with my friends, everything we did had to be together. This went on for about a year before I finally got sick of it one night. I had plans to spend the night at a friends house but I went to see him first. He had a freak out, didn't want me to go but I had enough and told him I was going anyway. I start driving away, pull out around the block and he jumps out onto the hood of my car to stop me.

Umm, hello, being psycho crazy is NOT a turn on. Relationship over.

He married the next girl he dated.

Then there is the best friend break-up story from college. I get sued in that one .

(Jeez, this was supposed to be a quote to switch's story so just pretend I quoted it.....)

"                                                                                                                                       "

Thank goodness for dated technology. Just think of where that photo would be these days!

Originally posted by BrianRunsPhilly By popular demand as started in another thread, here is my marathon breakup story. I had a good friend who was part of a small group that ran together and trained and did a couple marathons. Anyway we started dating and kept running with the group, and she and I decided we wanted to run Boston together. We ran the Philly Marathon, I BQ'd and she missed it by 3 minutes. Told her we could train that winter and do a spring marathon and I'd pace her. She trained like a maniac and our relationship got pretty hot and heavy. Oh, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out she was smoking hot. To the point where my friends hassled me about why the heck would she go out with ME. Good friends, right? Anyway, we get to race day, all of us are there. She is really nervous. We take off and she's looking great. We hit the halfway mark and she's 10 minutes under her BQ time. Then she gets sick, some kind of intestinal issue. Now's she's stopping for the porta-potty and her time is slipping. I'm trying to keep her going and she's getting frustrated and angry. By mile 18 I can see she's really sick and we should stop. One I said that, she starts yelling at me. So I start pacing her again, and she can't hold pace, and now it's my fault. By mile 20 she's full blown screaming at me and telling me what an a-hole I am. Then she starts crying. Around mile 22 she's so dehydrated from the runs she falls. I go to pick her up and she slaps at me, so now I'm getting p-ssed too. We walk a little, run a little, no talking. The last mile she says f-this and takes off running, makes sure she cuts me off in the finishers chute to pass me, and the race is finally over. We go back to the hotel room and she tells me she can't date anyone who is faster than she is (no lie!) and we're done. I talk to her a couple times after that, but no real explanation, nothing really said. She stops running with us and also cuts off all contact with the group of people we've been training and going out with for a post-run beer for the last 4 years. Oh, still see her at races every now and then. Last year there was a race picture of me and you can see her in the background

I ran  my husband in for the last 7 miles of a marathon one time. I was all chatty and cheerful. Finally he looks at me and growls "would you just be quiet already!". I learned people are not on their best behavior during a marathon .

So I'll be admitting that I'm the big dummy for not only dating, but living with this guy back in my late 20's.

I was already into fitness and he was smoker who hated exercise.  It was bound to work from day one!  Anyway, he was a rocker type, that's how he got me.  He was tatted up, with bleach blonde spiky hair, an earring, played guitar, wrote me love songs.  But he was also the quintessential bad boy standing 6' 4", 240 with a tough guy attitude.  He worked hard but had very little ambition to do better than a paycheck to paycheck kind of life.  I tried to break it off so many times, but he had family issues and clung to me like a life raft so I felt guilty.  I had also never lived alone.  I went from parents' house, to dorm, to boyfriend to boyfriend and it was a bad pattern that contributed to keeping me locked into a crappy relationship.

Two years in I had finally had enough.  I told him I'd just move out but we wouldn't break up, thinking I could ease out of things and soften the blow.  I went on vacation with my mom to the Grand Canyon and he kept calling me and telling me he "found out about the other guy", the guy that didn't exist.  As though it would get me to admit something that wasn't even happening.  He said he was going to burn all my stuff.  He had me so upset, and here we are trying to enjoy the Grand friggin' Canyon.  My mom was pi$$ed at him and worried about me.  I told her I had it under control.

Upon returning from vacation, I came back to our apartment to start packing some stuff up.  He was super duper agitated.  He accused me of cheating with a good friend of mine who was never more than just a friend.  I started feeling a little nervous so I went for the door but he blocked it.  It's all kind of a blur but I think I was about to scream.  He grabbed me from behind and put his hand over my mouth.  I couldn't breathe.  We struggled, ended up on the floor and he finally let go.  I somehow found a way to appease him for the moment, to make him think I loved him and that maybe I wouldn't move out after all.  I told him I'd go retrieve some of the items I had already moved to the new place and he bought it.  

I high tailed it out of there, called my parents and we headed directly to the police station to file a report.  Uh, you're gonna put your hands on me??  Really??  They suggested I file a restraining order which I did.  My parents and brother helped me move my stuff out while the ex stood by harassing me all the way.  We were just tossing stuff randomly in boxes, it was killing organized me.  But I got out.  When I started organizing my stuff later I realized how many little items he kept, like one shoe, underwear, my favorite dress, little things you wouldn't notice until later.

I changed my cell, kept my address as my parent's address after moving in with a completely new roommate the ex didn't know existed and watched my back like heck for about a year.  He called and hung up on me at work almost daily.  The best part of the story: when I went to the courthouse to file the restraining order, they told me I was entitled to a copy of his file.  His file?  Yes folks, he already had two other restraining orders.  The internet was just becoming popular then, but there's something to be said for background checking your dates!