Divorced over a decade, no contact since. My ex and I were in a stupid cult when we married, and apparently he still is. They don’t allow remarriage unless one partner has “committed adultery.” He wrote saying he sees online that I’m living with another dude, but can I confirm whether or not I’ve had sex?

I ignored it.

She was batshit and had crazy borderline energy. We’d split up because of very simple rules I have about behaving like adults in a relationship which was pretty much fucking impossible for her.

She kept having to come over to pick up things from my place she forgot here. She came over to get a shirt or some shit and her ass was just… fuck. She was wearing these little booty shorts and like. I’m a weak man. I couldn’t not do it. Plus she said she’d had all this growth and stuff (all lies) so fuck it. I knew what a terrible idea it was an how lucky I was to have made it out clean the first time but those who know know.

Anyway. We get back together. She has an std. claims she had no idea how she got it. I didn’t get it but. Add not fucking anyone without a condom while we’re broken up to the list of lies.

We’re together for like a month and I break up with her again because she’s incapable of discussing things in good faith without yelling or losing her temper. She calls me the day after I dump her and tells me she’s pregnant, which I didn’t believe but fuck it. I’ll deal with the consequences of my action and be a good father. Cue like 2 months of her calling me and texting me to discuss our relationship, screaming yelling into the phone while I repeatedly reiterate that I’m only willing to talk about the child she’s supposedly carrying.

Anyway the calls eventually stop. I hear through the grapevine her new boyfriend is freaking out because he’s knocked her up 2 months later. Which is… uh.

AFAIK she never did have a baby, and was probably never even pregnant.

There’s so much more but.

Why did I get back with her?

Those who know know.

Not an ex, but a ONS I had, got very upset it was just and ONS. She kept messaging me for days than nothing… 1 month later she sends me a vid how she is getting fucked and the message “look what you are missing out on”.

The attempted return wasn’t fucked up, but the break-up was. I’ve alluded to this event in past posts, but haven’t told the context of the story. So I guess I’ll share. Buckle in, this is going to be a ride.

Once upon a time, I had a terrible boyfriend. I was around 19 or 20 when we got together, and he’d pretty much seduced me from afar - around 1000 miles (1600 km) in fact. He was a musician and came from another country, complete with an accent that I melted for. I hadn’t yet known about psychopaths and manipulative behavior from partners, but in retrospect, a lot of things became obvious.

I’d had big plans to vandwell, had already purchased a high-top van older than myself, and was renovating the back to make it more of a living space. I still had a lot of work to do, but not enough money to complete it. Nonetheless, the boyfriend convinced me to move to his city and stay with him while I worked on it. This meant leaving almost all of my family behind. I did have a relative in the state I was going to - but she lived hours away. Nonetheless, I looked forward to visiting her sometime.

After the move, I quickly realized that something was off with this guy. He couldn’t follow my thought process at all, nor could I follow his. I distinctly felt as if our brains were wired backwards from each other. We had spent time together before - our big bond was road trips. We’d spent weeks together traveling around the east coast states, as well as a few parts of Canada. But as is common for abusers, moving in with them signals a change. The mask comes off, and boundaries begin to get pushed.

He was a thief. Although I liked how he’d steal cable and make it freely accessible to everyone in his apartment building (because fuck cable companies, and it’s cool to help neighbors), I gave pause when he stole milk crates to use in my van. Okay, I figured, a big supermarket can handle a couple missing crates. But then he started offering other stolen things. One thing I needed was somewhere to put a spare tire. One day he told me there’s a van in the nearby neighborhood with a spare tire holder on the back. “It’d be really easy for me to remove it and put it on your van,” he told me.

But I told him, to paraphrase, “Absolutely not!” He was shocked. Apparently he thought it would be a romantic gesture. Yeah, no, something was definitely wrong here.

The man started getting upset over the stupidest shit. He didn’t like that I was vegan. One time he tried to riddle me with, “If you could save a million animals, or save me, which would you choose?” When I refused to answer such a clearly-baited question, he broke down crying and screaming that the answer was obvious. He also developed a strong opinion on how I handle my periods, of all things. I was using a diva cup at the time (for those that don’t know, it’s a little, reusable silicone cup, inserted like a tampon and washed between uses.) Apparently he didn’t like that and tried to insist I use normal pads and tampons. I told him that the moment he starts bleeding out of his genitals, he can decide how to handle it.

Anyway, everything came to a head one night in June. His band was having a huge celebration. It was his birthday weekend, one member of the band got engaged, and two (married) members were celebrating an anniversary.

Unfortunately, I was not in the celebratory spirit. I had been unsuccessful in getting a job since arriving, my money was almost all gone, and to top it all off, my aunt had just died. Remember that family member I said I looked forward to visiting? I was never going to get to see her.

He was well aware of all of this. Still, he begged me to join him. He bragged about all the free drinks he’d be getting, so I figured at leas I’d get some drinks out of it.

Lol, no. Of course not.

The selfish prick didn’t offer me a drop. In fact, he straight-up ignored me. He and his friends had said to me to just “forget the bad stuff and have fun,” but I can’t do that? I ended up in the women’s bathroom for a while, trying to regulate myself. When I came back out, I found that fucker in the middle of the crowd, getting a lap dance from the woman who was celebrating her wedding anniversary.

I snapped. I shoved him and yelled at him, because what the ever-loving fuck. Naturally, he and all his friends took issue, so I was all alone. I went over to a quiet spot to cry, where a tone-deaf random girl asked if she could take my picture. Yeah, no, what a ridiculous question.

But the night got worse. See, that guy was my ride to the venue. When the night was winding down, I went to the guy and told him as such. He gave me $4 and said, “Take a bus.” I was new to the area, didn’t yet have a smart phone (they were still new at the time), and penniless aside from those $4 in my pocket. I didn’t know where I was nor how to get back to my van.

I ended up wandering the streets from 2am-5am, waiting at random bus stops so I could ask the bus drivers questions. I eventually figured out that I needed a particular bus, then a transfer to a second bus. By the time the bus I needed arrived, the sky was a vivid magenta, and ladies in scrubs filled the bus stop, ready to commute to the hospital on the mainland for their morning shifts. I joined the throng, kept awake solely by my panic, paying attention to every single stop lest I miss the one I need and end up without enough money for both another bus and a transfer.

Around 6am, I was at the bus terminal, sitting on the curb as homeless people slept on all the benches. At this point I was so tired, I was starting to go numb. Eventually I did make the second bus, got to my van, pulled into a farther parking lot (so as not to be near that guy’s apartment) and slept for what felt like forever.

And that, my friends, is the story of the worst night of my life.

The reconnect is much more brief.

Years later, after many more ups and downs (which perhaps I’ll write about sometime), I was beginning my foray into polyamory. I made an account on a dating website. Lo and behold, who reached out to me? That same guy. He asked to meet. I said something along the lines of “Lmao not a chance in hell” and blocked his ass.

Since then, I haven’t seen nor heard from him. Sadly, he still haunts occasional nightmares.

Internetexplorer.exe just randomly comes back.

My mentally ill ex husband, who kept a heroin and serial cheating habit quiet for over a year before I put the pieces together and kicked him out, created a website to make it look like he’d started a successful company and sent it to my friends and family members asking them to forward it to me since I had successfully blocked any form of direct contact with me.

It was pretty sad. You could tell that it was hastily thrown together, probably while he was high/manic. It also resulted in a large chunk of the people he initially sent it to blocking him as well, which likely increased his isolation etc.

Word to the wise, friends, you cannot save people from themselves, no matter how much you want to or how hard you try. Not everyone with mental illness and/or addiction issues will treat you badly, but, if they are not actively pursuing help on their own, there’s not much to be done. Life is short, don’t set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm.

My ex wife contacted me last year claiming she found out she had syphillis and had it the whole time we were married. I got checked, was fine, and started wondering if she was just trying to fuck with me.

Well, if I’m being completely honest here, I’m the fucked up ex.

One of my exes once sent me a Facebook friendship request more than 10 years after we’d split up. I’m still traumatised.

A woman I lived with for nearly 10 years fell under her fundamentalist family’s influence, and went off the deep end. We split up, and a few months later I get a call.

Now, first I have to tell you, the closest thing to a swear word they allowed themselves was “man.” So she calls me (she and her pre-existing kids were living there by now) and tells me that she and I were “married in gawd’s sight” which meant I needed to start sending her money. Well, you can imagine my response. And when she shouted behind her “he ain’t going to do it,” I heard her father scream “MAN!” Made my day, it did.

So your skin is perpetually mildlyinfuriating? What a terrible place for a curse.

These are interesting to me, I never got a chance to experience this stuff myself. I have only 1 ex and it was from a relatively short relationship in high school, I got married to the second girl I ever dated and we’re still married decades later.

That first girl did cheat on me, so that sucked, but we never spoke again and I have no idea where she even is at this point.

Lazy ass hobosexeual played the part of a caring partner for 2 years. He was in someone else’s bed whenever I wasn’t home at night, I worked the night shift so that was pretty much every night. I was constantly exhausted after working 12-14 hour shifts all the time, so I asked him to get a job or do anything to bring money in. He didn’t want to so he found some lady who made more than me to take his lazy ass in. I (sadly) begged him to stay and kept in touch.

One day, he came over to help me fix my brakes and tried to kiss me. I turned my check because fuck that noise. He had the BIGGEST crocodile tears I’ve ever seen in someone over the age of 5. Told me that he still loved me, just wanted to feel like I wanted him there (me begging wasn’t enough I guess), said he didn’t love her, she had “gross fake tits”, said he only cared about her money and her boat he was living on, said he had to sleep in his car when HE left because he had nowhere to go, blah blah blah. I told him to leave and then I found her on Facebook. I told her everything he had just told me. That dumbass still went on to marry his lazy ass and he still doesn’t work.

That’s ok though, my current partner of 10+ years is a massive improvement. He’s not an alcoholic and he has a job, so I won that one 😁

Also. Fuck you Levi.

Not that fucked up, honestly, but here it goes anyway:

Had a GF, we ended up breaking up. And it didn’t take much retrospective to realize how much better I felt once everything was over.
Anyway, due to loads of mutual friends we stayed in touch. Plus when I was in the army a couple of years later I was stationed pretty close to her and those friends. And in the weekends I didn’t have much better things to do than to hang out with them.

One weekend all of us were out getting drunk together. It was pretty fun, but I’m pretty sure that she was trying to get some sort of response/reaction from me as she was always physically closest to me and none of the others, and always found a way of making any topic a reference to when we lived together. I honestly didn’t care, though. As the small hours arrived and the bar was about to close she found some dude and became a heavy makeout session in public.

One of my friends asked me what I had to say about it,and I was relieved (and felt kind of clever about) that my response was “Never before in my life have I felt so indifferent”.

After my mandatory service was over I moved away elsewhere for work, and we all basically split up. Then she contacted me out of the blue after a long while and said she wanted to visit me. I just told her straight up “No.” and that I had a life going on that didn’t involve her. Then there were some allusions to her self-harming, and I told her that her mental health was not MY responsibility and hadn’t been for a long time, but I was going to call her mom about it (they were really close). I just put my phone away as I heard some protests and fears in the other end. I had stopped caring about things like that from her long before that point. And that was the last time we spoke. 2007 or so.

And just for the record: I ran into one of our mutual friends a while back, and she’s still fine.

I’ve only had amicable breakups (37, male, single), except for this one: when I was still figuring things out in eighth grade, a girl that I had broken up with threatened to pour coke on me - which she was holding in her hand - which made me miss a final exam and the teacher wouldn’t have it so I failed the class. Dafuq.

Just realized your question was about exes trying to come back to our lives. Never mind.