Submitted by A.G:
I had been seeing this guy for over a year. I thought everything was perfect. We had just moved into our first apartment, bought a dog together, and were starting to flirt with the idea of getting engaged. I thought we had it all.
Then one week everything we had came to a screaming halt. He became distant; never wanting to talk, not responding to texts, and generally avoiding me every way he could. Moments that used to be filled with creative conversations and plans for the future became quieter than the silence of space.
I confronted him, asking if there was something I had done. He denied everything I said and stated I was over reacting. Early the next morning I panicked and did the one thing I told myself I would never do; checked his history.
That’s where I found out that he had been posting ads on Craigslist looking for men to try erotic/kinky things with. Not just a couple of posts; dozens. Dating back months. If that wasn’t bad enough, he had gotten e-mail responses, which he responded to with meet ups and then later e-mails to hang out again.
In several of the posts he mentioned that his girlfriend knew he was posting these ads and that she was ok with everything. I can’t even imagine a world where I would ever say I was ok with him sleeping with men. I never even knew he was interested in doing so.
I opened every single e-mail correspondence and Craigslist postings, left the computer open, and left.
I went to the movies to forget about everything awhile. Needless to say when the movie ended I had 30+ phone calls and dozens of text messages; all saying how sorry he was and how he wanted to work through everything.
All I can say is I’m glad I became one of those stereotypical women searching through her man’s computer history. It saved me a lot of wasted time and effort.
Submitted by M.J.:
I “dated” the same guy from 8th grade till my Sophomore year of college. We met through a mutual friend and immediately hit it off. The only hitch; he lived 2000 miles away.
The first few years of our “relationship” were filled with endless text messages and hours long phone conversations. We talked every moment we could.
Over the years we talked about the idea of finally meeting. We made plans for me to fly out to meet him, but it seemed every time we were about finalize one of our parents would cancel everything and it was back to square one.
My Sophomore year of college I was finally 19 and old enough to make the arrangements. I was thrilled and so was he. I got on my first solo flight and flew the 2000 miles that separated us for all those years. I was ecstatic to finally meet him. The moment lived up to all of my fantasies. I ran into his arms and he kissed me and we hugged for what felt like hours.
The first week there he took me everywhere. We went to museums, hiking in the mountains, visited neighboring cities, and spent every moment together. He showed me all the places he used to talk about on the phone. I met his parents and had dinner with his family. I knew I loved him.
During the last week I was there I began to notice that he was more stand offish. I would wake up to his phone buzzing or find him sitting in front of his computer when he said he was going to the bathroom.
One night as I was doing homework on the bed and he was on the computer he chuckled under his breath. I had asked him what was funny and he said it was nothing but an inside joke with a friend he was talking to. Not wanting to pry, I had let it go. This went on for days.
With 2 days left of my stay, he left early in the morning after answering a phone call. He had quietly put on clothes and tip toed down the stairs, closing the front door behind him. That’s when I knew for sure something was happening. I went straight for his computer. I pulled up his social media account and began scanning his recent messages. I was horrified. There were hundreds of messages, dating back to the beginning of our “relationship”. They were all young, attractive women talking about how much they loved him and he them. I scanned every message my stomach tightening with every word I read. The man I had been in love with for all those years was a fraud.
I found messages between his friends asking how many women he was seeing that week; it was normally in the double digits. And I believed it all because I had read the messages to back up everything.
But nothing was more disheartening than the newest correspondence between who I thought was the love of my life and another young woman. The message started out by her stating “Good news! I’m not prego. You can finally breath again.” He had responded with an LOL and “I just told the girl in my bed that I was laughing at an inside joke. She’s seriously so dense”. I was crushed.
When he returned home a couple hours later, I was in the kitchen making breakfast. I didn’t say anything when he came in. I didn’t say anything when he stomped up the stairs and pulled his desk chair out to sit in front of his computer. And I didn’t say anything when he stormed down the stairs and yelled at me for invading his personal space. I said nothing as he called me psycho and yelled at me some more. He continued to explain to me that we were never really dating. How could we be? We had never met. I couldn’t have expected him to be faithful because he was a man and he had “needs” that I couldn’t help him with. I stayed silent through it all. Even when he had stated that it had all been a game from the beginning and that I was just another number he could brag about to his friends.
I never said another word to him. I slept on the couch for the last two days and went home. Over the years he would message me through a proxy site, or send something in the mail to my parents’ home.
I guess through the endless hours of phone calls, millions of text messages, video calls, and letters in the mail, I finally had nothing left to say to him.
The other night my boyfriend took me to a basketball game. I was super excited to go, because he is such a huge fan and usually goes to the games with his brother or friends. During halftime the kiss cam panned our section and stopped on us and the couple sitting next to us. The other couple started making out heavily, and the whole arena roared with applause. I nudged my boyfriend to kiss me, but he acted really hesitant, and started waving his hands and shaking his head no. People started to boo us. Humiliated, I started to go off on him about embarrassing me by refusing to kiss me. He asked me to quiet down, then went on to explain that he wanted to break up. When I asked him why he brought me to the game when he knew he was dumping me, he told me it was because he didn’t want to miss the game, and he figured if he did it in front of a crowd of people I wouldn’t make a scene. After he dumped me, he got up and said “I’m going to the concession stand. Do you want a popcorn or anything?” Um, no thanks! I’ll pass.
My boyfriend and I celebrated our anniversary with a 7-day Caribbean cruise. My boyfriend had been through a rough year, with family issues and getting his work hours cut to part time, so I offered to pay for the whole thing. I was trying to make it the most romantic vacation ever, so I spared no expense, and my boyfriend and I had a great time. The night we got home, he went back to his place so that he could get unpacked and rest. The next day, he calls me while I was on my lunch break. He told me that with everything he had been through recently, he just didn’t think his head was in the right place for a relationship. I was stunned. I mean, we had just come off this amazing trip and now this. He explained that he really needed the vacation and didn’t want me to waste my money. So, he had ‘put on a happy face’ and went through with the trip before he broke up with me.
john and i had been together for over a year and a half. quite frankly, he was the best boyfriend i had ever had. he was wonderful to me and my two-year old son. he was more than my fiancée; he was my friend. we had less than a year to go before our wedding, and everything was perfect.
one day, john didn’t call. he didn’t call the next day, either. he didn’t return my calls or texts. we normally spoke every day. by the third day, i was getting worried. what had happened? was he in the hospital? or arrested? i wanted to call the police. then i remembered that he had given me his myspace password.
i go to my computer and log in. i simply intended to email some of his friends to see if they had any clue as to where he was. what i found was a new email from a girl. i went into the sent messages to see what he had sent her. he had said how he had broken up with me because of all the fighting (what fighting???) and that he’d always liked her and if she liked him as much as he likes her would she want to go out with him?
all news to me. we used to laugh at how maybe we should fake a fight just so we looked like other couples.
i sent him an email with his email copied and pasted into it asking when he was going to tell me we had broken up. i never heard from him again.
so my ex, marie, was nuts about the color purple. not the movie, the actual color. marie had the brilliant idea that she wanted to dye her hair purple. i suggested highlights or something, but she had her mind set on bleaching her hair and then dyeing it.
so we head to the beauty supply store. we find the bleach pretty easily and move on to find the dye. i pick up a tube called “violet” and show it to her. marie says she thinks she wants the “cranberry”. i tell her that cranberry isn’t purple at all. unfortunately, the tube was clear so you could see the dye. the cranberry looked purple to the eye. i tried to explain that it doesn’t necessarily mean that it was purple. just like paint dries a different color than it looks wet, i figured hair dye was the same way. i couldn’t see why they’d name the color cranberry if it was purple. violet, however, is practically the same as purple.
naturally, i’m the dumb man who doesn’t understand hair. she grabs the cranberry.
short story long, marie bleaches and then dyes her hair. when the towel came off, her hair was pink. PINK!
to make matters more interesting, we had made plans to go to a steakhouse (with a down under theme) that night. despite looking ridiculous, she decides she wants to go anyway. needless to say, we were stared at the whole evening. months later, i see a commercial for said steakhouse that was strikingly similar to this story. i think they owe me a free steak or something.
my ex, marie, was interesting to say the least. she hailed from the great granola state and was a poor representative of the residents.
so, one day (actually many days, but i’m referring to one in particular), she was upset about something.
“what’s wrong, honey?”
“you seem upset’
“i’m not upset”
“you seem bothered”
“i’m not bothered”
“you just seem like something’s eating at you”
“okay, but it just seems like something in your little world isn’t as perfect as you would like it right now”
she was like this for three or four days. finally, she starts SCREAMING at me for not caring about her. how could i not notice what was going on with her? i told her i had been trying for all this time to tell me what was upsetting her. classic marie: “nothing’s upsetting me. i’m not upset, i’m irked” “so when i’ve been asking you what’s bothering you and you’ve been telling me nothing, if i had asked if anything was irking you, you’d have told me?” “yes”
excuse me! next time i’ll have my thesaurus handy.
john and i had been engaged for a year and a half. work was slow, so i came home a couple of hours early. i walk into the living room, sit on the recliner, and see a clear VHS tape case on the end table. i figured he rented us a movie. how sweet, right? turns out, not so much.
that’s when i look up at the TV. the one i bought him for his birthday. there’s a video in, and it’s on pause. if you remember the old video cassettes, you know the pause wasn’t really that clear like it is today. squinting and tilting my head a little, i realize there’s a woman giving a guy a blow job on the screen!
i’m not against porn. i don’t really get into it, but i’m not against it. just be upfront about it, right? i only think that’s fair.
i sat there, looking at the fuzzy picture for a while before i go looking for john. boy, will he be glad to see me! i finally found him, in the basement, switching a load of laundry over. he froze when he saw me, and turned white, which is quite a feat considering his african coloring. he finally closed his open jaw, asked me if i could finish the laundry while he went to the bathroom, and bolted up the stairs past me.
it took a while, but the whole sordid details finally came out. he had quite a collection going by now. my question was where he got them all. he had rented a p.o. box behind my back and had had them delivered there.
to this day, i am confused as to how bad that video had to have been in order for him to stop watching it and go switch his laundry over. must’ve been some laundry.
by on Jul.19, 2010, under Cheating
i was dating an army special forces guy. we had been together for about 6 months when i got pregnant. he said he was happy and we were gonna be a family, yada yada yada.
i was 5 months pregnant when i met his wife!!!! he was on temporary assignment to washington, so his wife and two kids stayed in texas. i never had a clue. she flew in to surprise him for their anniversary. i stopped by his house to visit. she answered the door….there we stood…both pregnant! she invited me in, he saw me and took off running down the street in nothing but his boxers in 25 degree weather.
she asked me, “would you like some grape juice?”
“yes, i would!”
i’d like to tell you marie was lazy, but that’s such an understatement. see for yourself:
i worked outside in the sun and heat. i walked a lot but made good money for it. i figured that if i’m working outside of the home so marie doesn’t have to, the least she could do was put down the game controller (mario 64 if you care) and wash a dish or two. in my dreams. what actually happened was we ended up with a path through the living room to get from the bedrooms to the kitchen.
i got fed up with it. in five minutes, i had cleaned up a huge area of the floor, filling up three 55-gallon trash bags. i made marie an offer. i offered her a dollar a minute she cleaned the apartment. i suggested fifteen minutes a day would be enough to clean the place in a week or two.
her response? me wanting her to do anything was controlling. in the following argument, i learned that it wasn’t that it was degrading asking her to clean. it was controlling asking her to do anything she wasn’t inclined to do on her own. despite the fact that she would get paid more than i did to do it, i was trying to control her. i wish.
if i controlled her, the place would be clean, and the princess would still be stuck up in that damn tower.