Confessions: UEA’s most brutal breakup stories
From creepy daddy issues to Valentine’s Day betrayals
Guys and gals can be brutal to each other, and pretty much everyone has a bad breakup story or five under their belts.
We asked UEA students about their worst breakups, and the responses didn’t disappoint.
I’d been with my girlfriend for two and a half years at this point and I realised that I was getting no enjoyment out of the relationship. It just wasn’t going to work out. Valentine’s Day rolls around and I can’t hold in the fact that I’m unhappy – so when she comes up to me with a handwritten card, lovingly put together, I take it, rip it in half, throw it in the bin, and break up with her. She was heartbroken, and I hooked up with her friend a week later. I’m a terrible person, I know.
Last year I started seeing this guy that I met in Mantra (already off to a great start). I thought this would be different seeing as he was at least 7 years older than me, and because I like older men. He had a nice car, nice job, nice body, nice teeth, and hadn’t been in a previous relationship with any of his siblings, which I guess, is surprising for Norfolk.
After a while of seeing each other, we spent the night together. I thought this would be the night where I would lose my virginity. Things were going good. We were in an intimate setting – his friend’s penthouse overlooking Norwich city, just before sunrise. He took his clothes off but said he didn’t want to have sex with me because he respected me too much. That wasn’t the problem. This problem was that (unfortunately) he was just too small – if you know what I mean. I couldn’t take him seriously.
After that, he started sending me dick pics every morning, which unfortunately only reminded me of the horror. Soon after, I completely ghosted him. I completely cut off all contact and even pretended that I’d deleted Snapchat, lost my phone and changed my number. I’d heard from his friend a few months ago that he has a girlfriend now. However, a few weeks ago at a social in Mantra, I saw him and his friend in the VIP area. His friend informed me he’d recently been dumped by his girlfriend because he has a small penis.
At least she had the decency to be honest with him, unlike me. So I would say the moral of the story is size does matter, especially if I need a magnifying glass to find it.
“Let’s go upstairs, close our eyes and watch Grand Designs” suggested Will one Sunday afternoon. Still hanging from LCR the night before I was not opposed to the idea. But once in bed with his tongue in my ear 90 per cent of the time, leaving the rest of my body high and dry, I decided to question my life choices. 19-years-old, in my first semester of uni, with a 28-year-old surrogate father posing as my boyfriend.
Roast dinners on demand. Two different homemade puddings. ASDA shops. No desire to sleep with him. I was accidentally married and we hadn’t even been dating three months. It was time to file for divorce, though it’s difficult to file for divorce when you don’t actually ask for one. Even more difficult in fact, when unannounced you cut contact with your partner completely.
So although we haven’t spoken in two years, I’m pretty certain we’re still together. We lock eyes occasionally in the library, or he might be looking longingly at my ears, I’m not sure. Either way we’re both happy. I’m finding solace in my affair (my lover is not discouraged by my current relationship given I wear ear muffs in the library) and Will, well he has two desserts to himself each night.
Breakups are overrated. Stick it out and you too may find a lifetime of happiness with someone else.
It was in second term of freshers when I met Claude. A good six years older than me, Claude also was engaged. Oops. I didn’t really care though – at 19 years old, I thought if you came to uni engaged then you probs weren’t serious about your relationship anyway. Basically, I didn’t give a shit about his 13-years-older than-him future wife.
Except then she started to get suspicious. I’d been blocked from his Facebook when I’d only added him as a friend because she didn’t like the fact that a girl was asking her fiancée to be pals – if only she knew the truth. There were times when Claude would be in my kitchen and she’d be screaming down the phone demanding to know where he was. One time she told Claude that she knew where I lived on campus because she’d stalked my tweets and might come and visit Norwich to see if he was in my room… psycho, I know.
I’m sure she was a lovely person deep down, but I only cared for his courgette-sized penis. It was massive and that overrode any feelings of guilt I had at all. I only slept with him twice but “courgette” remains a firm joke among my housemates. My best friend also then accidentally followed Claude’s fiancée on Twitter, not once, but twice. Add this to the fact that this yummy mummy had a teenage daughter, and you could see why we were never gonna be BMFLs.
I eventually got bored of Claude’s marital dilemmas. He was a lovely guy but I couldn’t be dealing with his psycho girlfriend interrupting the time we were spending together. If anything I wish she’d have caught us to keep the danger levels rising. I heard they later broke up, but I’m sure I wasn’t the reason. I still don’t feel that guilty about sleeping with an engaged man, and that probably makes me an awful person but I really don’t care.
After finding out my boyfriend had cheated on me multiple times, I was on the brink of breaking up with him and kicking him in the nuts for good measure. However, I then remembered he’d bought us tickets to Les Miserables, my favourite West End show. Having no job and no money at the time, it was my only chance to see the performance. So I stayed with him for another three whole months. We went to the show, which was completely mind-blowing, and then I dumped him by text the day after. Evil? Probably. Worth it? Totally.
The relationship had been turning sour for months, especially after I found out she had tried cheating on me. The final straw was when she stopped mid-sex to text the guy who she clearly had a thing for, at which point I decided the relationship had to go. The only issue was that I knew we had our A-level exams first and I didn’t want to dump her mid-exams because she would blame me for failing. This led to me avoiding her for about a month, coming up with the worst excuses such as “I forgot I was going on a bike ride with my mate” or claiming I had job interviews for jobs that didn’t exist.
After a month of this, while trying to convince her nothing was wrong so that she would revise rather than worry about me, she eventually turned up on my doorstep unannounced at eight in the morning the day after her last exam, where I thought it would be a great idea to tell her I wanted all of my stuff back and that we were finished.
I asked if she wanted to come in but she said no as she burst into tears and left. Within a month I had heard from several friends about how I had cheated on her several times and about how I was the worst guy she had ever met. Surprisingly we haven’t talked in about two and a half years now.
I had a massive crush on this girl, and eventually I plucked up the courage to ask her out… she said yes. A week later it was Halloween, and she wanted me to come out to a party – but I had already committed to another one. So we went our separate ways, me at some lame party and her at a much more exciting sounding one with a load of my friends there.
While I was wishing I was somewhere else, she was losing her virginity to my best friend. I found out a couple of days later when she told me out of guilt, and I had to endure seeing them both almost every day in school. I’m friends with him again now, but she’s going out with another one of my closest friends.