I’ve just broke up with my cross-eyed girlfriend. Seems she was seeing someone else.

Driving Me Crazy(quote by Anonymous)

Since I’ve been called a serial monogamist, serial dater, and an insensitive asshole, I’ve realized I am highly qualified to present an official guide to breaking up. When things begin to sour–you can identify this moment by realizing you’re cringing during intimacy–it will be time to Google this fine blog to find a decent reason to present to the breakee. If all else fails, you can go with old faithful: “I’m just not feeling it.” Personally, I’d rather hear something along the lines of, “I got back together with my ex.” Still, they both are superior to “I’d rather hump a carrot.”

Be careful when there are feelings involved, people. Not every person you meet is as desensitized as yours truly.

I’m not good at mourning, so sue me. I get over it, make myself a tall latte, and continue ironing. The dating pond never dries up. I simply re-bait the hook and toss it back. I hope to avoid the sneers from those with my hook-puncture wounds, but it’s inevitable. Ironically, when the ex trashes me to her friends, it usually makes them curious, thinking they could tame the beast.

So, if you’re looking for the exits, and the person you’re leaving isn’t an insensitive twat, try some creative angles. It helps to begin the exit sentence with a compliment. Begin with “You’re [insert lie], but …” and use one of the following lies to avoid burning a bridge (aka make-up sex opportunity):

  1. Awesome
  2. Kind
  3. Sweet
  4. Great
  5. Nice

Now that you have lit the way to the exit, it’s time for a little shove.

  1. I’m just not ready to be in a serious relationship.
  2. I’ve got too much going on in my life.
  3. There are some things I need to devote my attention to before I’ll be ready to date again.
  4. There’s drama going on right now in my [family/career] that I need to address.
  5. It seems there’s something missing between us, and I don’t want to waste your time or mine.

There. That should avoid any massive face leakage.

Now, if, by chance, this person has mistreated you to the point where it’s absolutely impossible to envision yourself ever mounted again, don’t burn that bridge–blow it up.

  1. I don’t know what I was thinking when I gave you my number.
  2. Look, I’m saving you substantial lawyers fees and a severe beating from my father.
  3. Now I know why you were single when we met.
  4. Have you considered therapy? You should. And, while you’re at it, see if you can find a drug to cure that awful orgasm face you make.
  5. Remember that puppy you were considering right before we met? Get two.

It doesn’t matter how subtle or blatant you are, actually. The dumpee will realize you’re either lying or prickish. Shrug and walk away. There will always be other options. Soon, you’ll be able to build your own mates with 3D printers. Avoid using saran wrap, or they’ll be too clingy.

Whatever. We are always getting back together.

Oh, Taylor, what do you know? You’re what? 22? Whatever.

You talk tough to your friends, who tell my friends, who don’t buy it because my phone rattles off the bar at midnight, most nights. Face it–you’re addicted to my penis (I’ll keep that between us).

That’s mostly because, unlike your two-pump-chump ex, I have taken the time to explore you more. I found that special place that makes you cream and scream.

But, don’t be discouraged, because there are more men like me. You’ll see. Heck, maybe you’ll find your spot alone and have no use for my bone.

You can’t admit to the shit we tried–so good, you cried. When asked why so red, you lied. I have you sexually fried.

So, sing away your addiction. Go have your fun. You can’t deny I’m the one. Tick, tick, tick. Call me–your sexual 9-1-1.

Loving you again real soon … like for-EVER,

Me

 

How to handle rejection from someone you rejected.

We’ve all been in that awkward position of beginning a difficult conversation, only to be preempted. You’ve gone on a hand full of dates with someone you found more attractive before the dates. This person has managed to lose points more quickly than a stoned gymnast. You discuss your break-up plan with your bestie, and you practice delivering the news gently. You decide to do it in a public venue to prevent someone from losing it.

“Hey, John, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“You know, you’re a fine woman, I just don’t feel like this is going anywhere.”

“What?”

“Please don’t be upset. You’re wonderful. I think the chemistry is off.”

“But, I was going to break up with you.”

“Ah, I see. Hey, whatever makes you feel better. Let’s stay friends, OK?”

“Asshole.”

“Don’t be like that.”

I had something similar happen last night. A woman I see out regularly–whom I have considered an acquaintance, which would never grow into anything but–said she wouldn’t go out with me because she doesn’t find me attractive. I never asked her out and had no intention. Her friend made the suggestion and, before I could remove the beer spout from my lips, suggestee slapped with with a five-point-five for my floor routine. Bitch.

At this point, I could have said, “Well, truth be told, I’m not attracted to you either, so it doesn’t matter if you’re attracted to me.” That would be accurate, but cruel, right? I set aside my dick-cap and played nice.

“Aw, and we were getting along so famously.”

“I’m sorry. I meant no offense.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You can’t be offended because you don’t match my taste in men.”

“And you don’t get to decide what offends me.”

“Look, you’re very handsome.”

“Don’t even try to backpedal. It’s fine.”

“Are you saying you’re attracted to me?”

“No, I’m not saying that.”

“You’re not attracted to me?”

“If I were attracted to you, I probably would have asked you out by now.”

“Not if you thought I wasn’t attracted to you.”

“My attraction to people is not determined by their attraction to me. For example, I’m highly attracted to that lovely server over there. I’m also confident that she is not attracted to me, and that’s sad, but OK. Now, if she’s unattractive, it matters less because I don’t respect her opinion.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Is not. It’s logical.”

“So, you only respect the opinion of attractive people?”

“In regards to my attractiveness, yes.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. You’re not attracted to me, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, then the fact that even after a three-month drought, four shots of Cuervo, and dim lighting I couldn’t get my dick hard for you shouldn’t matter.”

“Asshole.”

 

She hates me, she hates me not, she hates me.

There’s no kind way to let a prospect know she’s no longer a prospect without expecting to find your car keyed or burning poop on your stoop. We all need to stop taking things so personally instead of banging out text after unanswered text.

I’ve numbed myself sufficiently and I’ve also set an unanswered contact limit to two. After that, I assume she’s not interested or incapacitated (and I won’t delve into which one I prefer; let that one stew in my imagination).

The progression of the unanswered contacts usually goes like this:

  • I miss you. When are we going to get together again?
  • Hi, Sexy.
  • Hey, how’s it going?
  • Just thinking about you.
  • Is your phone working?
  • Hello?
  • ???
  • Really? You’re blowing me off?
  • You have some nerve.
  • I was never really into you anyway.
  • You suck.
  • I’ve been turned down by uglier people.
  • I’ve already moved on to the next man. I’m done with boys so lose my number.
  • Your loss.
  • Sorry.
  • I was tipsy when I sent those. Please accept my apology.
  • Hello?
  • I hate you.

There’s simply no way for the recipient of this avalanche of nonsense to respond, other than to hire bodyguards and adopt a large dog. You’ve convinced this person that you have major issues you need to work out and unless the recipient is going to be paid to help (e.g. your therapist), your contacts will be disregarded. Isn’t it ironic too that the person who follows this progression typically has a stalker ex as well?

Men, you need to be extra careful about this. Do not try to intimidate or guilt any woman into intimacy. There’s no reason to frighten anyone. Remember that anything you send can and will be used against you. Tell her you love her. Tell her you miss her. Tell her to have a nice life. Move on.

My buddies enjoy my angst when I run into a jilted ex.

“Holy shit, dude. What did you do to her?”
“Nothing, damn it. I just stopped calling her.”
“She’s right; you’re an asshole.”
“What? Because of radio silence?”
“Women need closure. You know that. Christ, you write about it.”
“And I also write about how I am the coward who will avoid conflict and confrontation at all costs. That’s why we’re leaving.”
“Don’t be a pussy too.”
“She might be crazy enough to make a scene. I’m not taking any chances. There’s plenty of wine in fairer pastures.”
“Eventually you’ll have exes in every bar. Then what?”
“Yoga.”
“Right.”
“Book clubs?”
“Ha!”
“Mall benches?”
“Soon, old man.”
“Fuck. I’m going to stay home and watch movies.”
“Good plan. Oh, and I’d lock the doors.”
“Nice.”

To every ex I’ve ever left, “I’m sorry! Yes, it was you. You didn’t meet my unrealistic expectations. Land Rovers don’t meet my expectations either and they get over it. So should you. Fine. At least leave me alone to disappoint another.”

The End Hurts

When the relationship ends, sometimes there’s closure and sometimes there’s uncertainty. I’ve found my preference depends upon how much I enjoyed the relationship. If it was tedious and stressful, I don’t mind unanswered pokes. If I fell for her and she’s gone, I need answers. How am I to improve without feedback? Depending on her reason for leaving me lonely, there could be collateral ego damage causing me to limp toward my next victim.

Insignificant ego damage occurs when the reason is:

  • I’m moving.
  • I can’t fight it any longer–I’m gay.
  • I’m pregnant with my ex’s child.
  • I’m in prison.
  • You’re too short, old, or hairy for me.
  • Our religious beliefs, political affiliation, or values don’t mesh.
  • We don’t enjoy the same things.
  • I need to be pregnant like yesterday and you’re not helping.
  • Work is too demanding right now. I don’t have time for a relationship.
  • There’s no way we could ever live together.
  • My parents threatened to cut me from the will if I continued dating you.
  • You won’t commit so I’m off to find someone who will.
  • My pets/children/parents/friends hate your pets/children/parents/friends.

Moderate ego damage comes from reasons like:

  • I got back together with an ex.
  • You won’t let me get freaky in bed.
  • I never was that attracted to you. Sorry. I tried.
  • We both knew this would never work.
  • It was fun while it lasted–more so toward the beginning, though.
  • Look, I was drunk. That’s why I slept with you. I can’t justify it by continuing this charade.
  • I can’t keep a mate right now because it’s summertime.
  • You need etiquette training.
  • [crickets], de-friending, and finding your overnight stuff in a bag on your porch.
  • This text message: “Please lose my number.”

Severe ego damage is caused by the following reasons:

  • Your penis is too small (or vagina is too large).
  • You’re stupid–really fucking stupid. How did you get past eighth grade?
  • Superior options have presented themselves.
  • I’m sleeping with my boss/therapist/gardener.
  • You need a complete wardrobe and personality overhaul.
  • The clitoris is toward the top, Pokey.
  • My friends have finally gotten through to me. You’re a loser.
  • You probably shouldn’t have introduced me to your sexy friend/uncle/neighbor.
  • Thank you for being my slump-breaker. Goodbye now.
  • You’ve obviously been letting yourself go so I might as well let you go too.

In case of severe ego damage, your best bet is to get right back into the game, blur your vision with bourbon, and aim a little lower. Your misery is sure to have company in most watering holes. Avoid the urge to sit in front of the TV hugging your pet and Häagen-Dazs® too tightly while watching movies that make you feel unworthy. Put on some fresh threads, think happy thoughts, and help repair the ego of the fellow jilted patron on the neighboring bar stool.

Distraction hastens healing.