I recently broke up with my bf for some reason but i want him back so badly. I tried to talk to him but he ignores me. What should i do? it was a very bad mistake.
Those of you who are not from New England probably have no idea of the depth of lore and tradition in that region of the country, including many unwritten rules and laws that may only be disregarded at the risk of great personal peril. One of these laws states that on his 5th birthday, every first-born male in a family must be strapped into ice hockey skates, handed a grey metal folding chair, and shoved out onto the ice to push the chair back and forth for hours until he learns to skate. There haven’t been many PBS shows or National Geographic series that have touched upon this strange yet compelling societal rite-of-passage, but there totally should be.
Anyway, here I was, a young hopeful kid from south of Boston, who happened to earn the hockey nickname “freight train,” (not from my amazing skating speed or uncanny ability to maintain balance through traffic, but for the simple reason that the only way I could stop was by slamming into other players) with a long bright future in hockey. The world was my oyster. There were scholarships to be had, cute young hockey fans to date, teeth to be knocked out, eyes to be blackened, lips to be split open then stitched right back shut, and that’s not to mention the promise of an NHL career and, barring series injury or felony arrest, a Stanley Cup playoff victory!
So it all came as some surprise to my family and friends when I decided, after a long and successful hockey career, to finally hangup my skates at the ripe old age of 10 years-old. Sure, there was plenty of talk about me flip-flopping, “He can’t live with out the game, he’ll be back!” one old timer said, “He doesn’t know how to do anything else!” cried another one. But much to the shock and dismay of the local hockey world, I remained retired.
Sure, I went through some hard times and there were moments when I felt tremendous regret. But through lots of personal reflection and soul searching, along with the discovery of a stash of Penthouse magazines when I turned 13, I was able to pull through and move on to lead a happy and healthy life. All this despite that one questionable decision I made, and not because I’m awesome and you’re not (true as that may be), but because deep in my heart, I knew that I was making the right decision.
Deep in your heart, you know you’re not meant to be with this guy. And right now you’re lonely and sad and you feel hollow inside, and what you think you’re missing is him, but in reality, you’re just adjusting to being on your own for a bit. Once you get your skates under you, so-to-speak, you’ll find that it’s not that bad and this is how things should be. You’ll hopefully stop stalking this guy and start meeting new guys, who you can hopefully date, break-up with, then stalk, in a beautiful cycle-of-life that should also be chronicled on some sort of PBS or National Geographic show.
Either way, spring is coming. And spring offers new opportunities, new beginnings, and new chances for you to find what’s right for you so you can be happy. Spring also offers baseball tryouts, so if you’ll excuse me, I think I have my old glove in the closet someplace…
Here’s what I think about break-ups: Never second-guess them. The most common mistake people make is not sticking to their guns. I am a strong believer in intuition. It’s almost never wrong.
I once dated a guy who I really adored. There were problems in the relationship, though, differences between us that I couldn’t ignore, and those problems were starting to outweigh all the good. As much as I tried to deny it, I couldn’t. These issues weighed heavily on my mind constantly. I never felt like I could be at peace in the relationship because I wasn’t being honest with myself. I had to make a change. So I broke up with him. Via text. (Like a real coward).
Almost instantaneously I highly regretted my decision. The first image that popped in my head was his cute, angelic, smiling face, haunting me like Sarah McLaughlin in the ASPCA commercials. I immediately felt guilt-ridden. What had I done? God I was a bitch. How could I do something like this? Now look at me. Alone. Pathetic. A newly single mother fucker with a wine addiction and no money. I crawled into my air mattress bed, popped open my phone and started replaying videos we had taken early on in our relationship. Big mistake. Tears came a’flowin’. Not tears, really. More like dry heaving sobs of anguish. This was not good. Not good at all. I had really fucked myself now. Not to mention, I’d literally now be fucking myself. Which conjured up more excruciating memories of all the great sex we had. Ok. Now I had really done it. Alone. Pathetic. A newly single HORNY mother fucker with a wine addiction and no money. What a failure. This self-loathing session was quickly followed by a over-indulgent wine binge, which, as expected, ended with me calling him and begging for him back.
Long story short, we broke up, got back together, broke up, got back together, and broke up about eighty-seven times, until one day we finally broke up for good.
My advice to you is to don’t do this. Get over it. I don’t care what kind of mistake you think you made. You broke up with this guy for a reason. Maybe it was a big reason, like he cheated on you, or he’s verbally abusive, or for the life of him he can’t stop watching BBW porn. Maybe it’s something minor, like you hate the way he slurps his soup. Or you’re sick of the way his balls smell. Maybe you should sit for awhile and think about the reason over and over and over until you start hating him again. That, or you can just keep incessantly texting him because I know for a fact that will make him want you back.