Read The Stories Of Women Sharing What It's Like to Date an Ex

Even when you know there was a good reason you and your ex broke up, that reason can become difficult to remember when you're looking into each other's eyes and laughing at inside jokes. Maybe that's why almost half of people have slept with their exes. But is it worth it to get back into a relationship, or will you just experience the same heartache all over again?

We got a few women to reveal what happened when they got back together with exes—the good, the bad, and the ugly—and it looks like it can really go either way. Here are some of their most telling stories:





"I did the classic long-distance thing my first year of college. My boyfriend and I broke up during the summer following freshman year. We got back together days later. We were each other's first loves and were too devastated to stay broken up. Then we broke up for good a few months later. I don't regret the long distance at all, even though it's a cliché. Most of the relationship was wonderful and worth it. That is, all except those last few months when we had gotten back together. Those sucked because I think we both knew it wasn't going to work. I still don't regret it, though, because I think if we hadn't gotten back together I would always have wondered if it could have worked out if we'd tried again." —Ellen, 25


"We didn't see each other for a while after breaking up. Then we had drinks and ended up having sex. I hadn't had sex in months, and I thought he was the only person I could be with (I don't know why I thought that). Then I saw in his Instagram that he was seeing somebody else, and suddenly I realized I wanted to be with him again. We got back together for a few months, and it was a disaster. Terrible idea. Now I feel so dumb for going back just because of insecurities and jealousy." —Alejandra, 31

"So many exes. Lots of rekindling. There's a reason they're exes. Leopards don't change their stripes. You kind of convince yourself that a remaining connection means more than it actually does. Like it's supposed to work out if people are still attracted to each other, but that's not the case. It usually unfolds in exactly the same way." —Jenny, 34

"I met Matt online when I was 25 and new to New York City. He was nice and smart and husband material, but I wasn't looking for a husband. When I broke up with him after about two months, I asked him to stay in my life as a friend. We were friends—with benefits—until I got partying out of my system and was ready to get married. We both dated other people—I even set him up once! But eventually we got married . Now we have two kids and live in the 'burbs." —Jen, 39

"I broke up with the last guy [I dated] a total of three times. Both times I took him back, I knew he wasn't good for me. I didn't even really like him that much anymore and knew my friends wouldn't approve... but I felt like I owed him the chance for some reason. The first time, he had just gotten fired from his job. The other time was a few months later, after a two-month split. It took another six months for me to realize my self-worth and leave him for good. I'm sure some of our problems were my fault, but in retrospect, he was incredibly emotionally abusive and had a way of making me feel like I owed him something, even when I hated how I felt around him. We've been broken up for seven months now, and I feel completely emotionally stable." —Nina, 31

"We broke up two times after our first breakup—for the same reasons. I don't think it was a mistake, as we had some really nice times when we got back together. But it ended the same way and just took up more of my life. I learned that it's important to get closure. We just stopped speaking when we first broke up, so getting closure the last time we split was really good. I didn't realize it was missing until I had it." —Amanda, 27

Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? Do you regret it?

I Can't Stop Responding After I Began a Private Facebook Friendship with My Ex's Wife

Of all possible illicit online liaisons, how did I wind up with my first lover's wife?

I fell for David when I was 14. But after six years together, I had a birth control mishap, an abortion, a meltdown and a humiliating split I couldn't erase—since he refused to speak to me. While I was friendly with other exes, this initial heartbreak remained foggy and unfinished.

By 35, I was married to a taller, sweeter man, sure I'd completely recovered from my first disastrous breakup. Yet during years of difficult fertility treatments, I was haunted by the pregnancy I'd ended in college. Was being barren punishment for not becoming a young mother? I feared I'd ruined my last chance. Should I have kept the baby? I craved an answer to that lingering question.





The Internet led me back to David, 500 miles away. I emailed him, asking to discuss our painful falling out two decades earlier.

"I'd rather take out my own appendix with a bottle of Jack and a dull spoon," he answered.

Still sardonic, the quality that originally attracted me. "Why?" I pushed.

"Let's leave the bad memories intact. Am I scared to see you again? Fucking right I am," he wrote. "Think you're still nuts? Is a trout's ass watertight? Can we finish with the joint therapy session now?"

This sarcastic exchange completed the chapters of my memoir that were focused on him. Upon publication, I sent him an O Magazine review of my book that included his quote, adding "It was just optioned by a film producer." I hoped he'd talk now that my romantic trajectory—and his fateful rejection—was deemed cinema-worthy.

"Hey, that's great," he replied this time.

I was relieved. Mature adults, we were over the past. No harm done. Trauma averted.

Until the next email: From his wife.

"Congrats on all ur success," she wrote.

He must have forwarded my message to her. I worried they'd shared a computer and joked about the original Crazy Ex-Girlfriend who wouldn't leave. I awaited a "get away from my husband" admonishment.

Instead she wrote, "I'd like Eva Mendes to play my part in the movie."

I wondered what she really wanted from me. To see what I looked like or if we were similar? To gloat? I decided his wife—let's call her "Eva"—was a test I had to pass to get a last heart-to-heart with her spouse. Assuming he was reading along, I typed how pretty she'd looked in a sparkly black dress at a party. I'd spied the picture web-stalking a classmate's Instagram, curious if David still had hair.

When Eva requested a Facebook friendship, I was flattered. Why not add her? Here's why not:

"No offense, but maybe think about losing the bangs?" she wrote. "Ur gorgeous, but darlin' it's aging u." She added, "p.s. Ur facebook entries suck ass. U write beautifully, but social media, not so much. I'm available for 50 bucks an hour :)"

This semi-stranger using tween slang wanted me to pay her to edit my web profile? Rather than finding my path to emotional resolution, I'd stepped on a landmine. Guess I wasn't the only one harboring hidden animosity.


Annoyed by her insults, I investigated her Facebook wall. No job mention, lots of selfies, Woody Allen quotes, an article "Do you Suffer from Decision Fatigue?" In khaki shorts, T-shirt, and sneakers, she looked like a cute camp counselor. There were few pictures of David. I was disappointed that their teenage son resembled her, not her husband, curious to revisit the curly red-haired science-brain I'd met in ninth grade.

Looking through her albums, I relived my six years with David. He was the first to take me to bed, to get me high at a Dylan concert, to give me jewelry (a gold heart necklace), to say "I love you." (Actually I blurted it out and he asked, "Think I'd put up with your insanity if I didn't love you too?") Despite our intense passion, we were socially acceptable, cruising to our little brothers' Bar Mitzvahs in his silver Camaro, blessed by our parents. Hooking up in Israel during my summer study abroad, it felt like we were both hot and holy, tricking the world.

Then, in college, despite using condoms, I found myself three weeks late. He proposed. But I was petrified, not ready for parenthood. After terminating the pregnancy, I had a drug and alcohol-fueled breakdown at 20, smoking, drinking, doing magic mushrooms and coke. Afraid of sex, David, and my body, I told him, "I need some time alone." When I resurfaced to apologize three months later, he wouldn't return my calls. He kept sending me agonized Bob Dylan lyrics in the mail. I assumed that meant he still cared.


So at two a.m. one autumn Friday, I impulsively drove my orange Cutlass four hours to his university in the middle of the night to ask why he was sending me cryptic typed-out words to Blood on the Tracks. He never really answered, though he did admit that he'd fallen for a petite girl who was under his covers in the other room. With Eva asleep in his bed, I cried in his arms on his living room couch. Then I drove home, sobbing to the Dylan bootleg he'd made me. It became the soundtrack of my dark era.

After graduation, I heard he landed a great job, married Eva and welcomed a son. Broke and adrift, I envied their prosperity and perfect family. When a friend said Eva's second child died in infancy, I was stunned, mournful for them. It threw me back to my own lost baby.

It turned out while I'd been burning to know their story, my memoir had ignited Eva's curiosity about me.

"Why did you change everyone's name in your book?" she now emailed.

"The Random House lawyer suggested pseudonyms," I explained.

"Why did you turn my dead daughter into a dead son?" she asked.

This stopped me. I felt guilty for appropriating her trauma. "I'm so sorry. It was a mistake," was how I finished this eerie cyber-chat with my one-time rival.

Yet Eva wasn't through with me. She disclosed that during my calamitous road trip, while she was in his bed, she'd been in lust with her Shakespeare professor. So while David was breaking my heart, he didn't know she'd been breaking his. Was she being competitive by confessing this? I'd just published a book about my old lovers, after all. Rather than regaining David's attention, I was stuck e-waltzing with his angry spouse. She'd been a mythical figure—the petite size-two brunette he'd chosen over me. (I was size eight on a good day. Was that why?)



"You look thin and lovely on TV," she wrote next, admitting that he hadn't encouraged her writing; he insisted their problems not be aired in public. I liked the idea that she might envy me.


"He loved being quoted in your book and O Magazine," she added.

It was electrifying to have a spy in his house, the least likely turncoat I could have imagined.

"He Googled?" I asked anxiously.

"He ran out to get a copy," she clarified. "Might be the first time he was in a bookstore."

More than any book press or old friends resurfacing for my launch, Eva's words compelled me. I couldn't stop reading and answering, like I was high on cocaine. In abbreviated missives, she confessed her own union was passionless, detailing their sexual problems. I'd unwittingly stumbled on the juiciest of insider scoops: The stud who'd left me for a hotter woman had been karmically avenged by discord in his marital bed.

A day later, Eva apologized for being "bitchy" and "passive-aggressive," saying "Have NO idea why I am writing such personal things to u. Will blame it on alcohol, heat wave, lack of impulse control." So she had an addictive personality—something else we shared. Clean and sober for years, I was getting swept up in a new compulsion: emailing my first boyfriend's mate.

It turned out she was Jewish, cynical, well-read. An English major. My age. Were we doppelgängers who switched lives? She'd aimed to publish too, but didn't know her subject.

"Try chronicling this electronic tête-à-tête with your husband's high school girlfriend," I offered.

"Then he'd know we're in touch," she said.

The revelation that he didn't know came as a surprise, and I was confused over who I should feel loyal to. If I ever told him, it might damage their marriage. If I didn't, I'd feel like I was her co-conspirator, trashing him—betraying my ex with the woman he'd once betrayed me for. In between work and the evening classes I taught, I kept checking my in-box to see what else Eva revealed.

This time she was the one alienated, frustrated, lonely in an empty relationship. Content in work and love at last, I expected vindication to wash over me. Yet knowing my first lover's wife was hurting made me sad and bizarrely worried. Underneath her snide tone, she seemed confused—like I used to be—pent-up, career-less, repressed in the conservative milieu I'd escaped.

"My shrink advised me to 'Lead the least secretive life,'" I wrote to her.

"Why am I confiding in you?" she questioned (me or herself?)

"Does a memoirist delving into unresolved pain hold up a mirror?" I asked.

"Am very entertained by this repartee :) PLEASE give me a subject. Will be one of ur protégées."

The wife of my worst heartbreak wanted me as her mentor. I used to envy her marriage, now she coveted my career. I felt emboldened. "Get an MFA. Write a book about the daughter you lost." I tried to assist her, unlock her, give her permission. "Two of my students published momoirs. They're hot." I listed bestsellers on motherhood, then worried I sounded insensitive. She didn't seem to mind.

"Ur a real firecracker," she answered. "Thanks."



But I wondered if I was I helping her, or updating my early amorous loss, so that this round, instead of playing the discarded girl, I'd be the heroine who won. After more intense cyber-volleys, my brain, husband, and therapist insisted: disconnect. To avoid staying stuck in the past, I quietly un-friended her, leaving the woman I'd over-connected with online, but had never even met.

The intimate portrait Eva provided offered an illuminating coda, clearing up many misconceptions: Waiting a decade longer than her to wed didn't ruin me, it saved me. Those extra ten years single allowed me time to finish graduate school and develop two professions I adored, with the help of a smart therapist who said, "Love won't make you happy. Make yourself happy."

Just as I let go of the fantasy that I needed to talk to my first ex in order to fully heal, he returned.

While he was visiting New York, he emailed, casually asking if I wanted to get together, as if I hadn't been begging for this rendezvous half our lives. I quickly showered, shampooed, put on makeup, flattering jeans, heels, perfume. When he came over, I stared at him. He was still cute, less burly, with hair (though it was thinner). Luckily there was no heat. We talked nostalgically for an hour, sipping bottled water. In retrospect, we were ridiculously mismatched; all we had in common was our history. Not wanting to hurt their marriage, I kept what Eva confided to myself.

The next day, I wondered why he'd finally reappeared.

"I wonder if Eva pushed him to meet with you?" my husband said.

Was I no longer a threat?

A few years later, when I learned they'd divorced, I guessed another reason Eva may have sent him to me: she no longer cared. Catching up with my first boyfriend felt sweet and healing. But it was nowhere near as charged, confessional, and intensely compelling as my clandestine email madness with his wife. She gave me the closure he couldn't.

Susan Shapiro is the author of the WHAT'S NEVER SAID and FIVE MEN WHO BROKE MY HEART. You can follow her on Twitter at @Susanshapironet.

Is He Missing Me? 13 Vivid Signs He is Missing and Thinking About You

Do you ever wonder if your ex boyfriend still thinks about you? The answer to the nagging question “Does he miss me?” gets easier with these signs.





How many men do you know who stubbornly put aside their feelings and attraction to the woman they love without at least giving it a shot? If you are wondering “does he miss me?” the signs are all there. You just have to read them.

He may have to keep his pride intact and not come running back, but there are other behaviors he exhibits worth more than any beg-back session.

Does he miss me? 12 ways a guy says he misses you without saying a word

If you want to know if he misses you, look at what he does, where he went since you left, and whether he moved on or stayed stuck. If he is in the same position, doing the same things, or even doing stupid shit uncharacteristic of him, those things all say, “God, I wish I had her back.”

#1 He hasn’t found anyone else. Y’all have been broken up for almost six months, and although you hear of him dating some girls, he still has not found anyone to share his bed at night. A guy occupies his lonely space, but if he hasn’t found anyone to catch his eye for very long, then you may just be taking up that space in his mind.

#2 He is sleeping with everything around. This is something you may not want to hear, but guys who miss the woman they can’t have often exhibit careless behaviors. Like sleeping with anyone and everyone to get the girl they love off their mind.

The problem is that no one is you, but they continue. If he wasn’t a player before you, and suddenly turned into John Mayer, there is something behind his drive to screw everyone in town.
 

#3 He pops up in unexpected places. If you notice him popping up in unexpected places, like your work or at the gym, there is a good reason to believe he hopes to get a look at you and make sure you are still around.

His way of maintaining his distance and not giving in, but don’t underestimate those small “bump into meetings.” You likely never saw him there without coming to see you before, now is no different.

#4 He hasn’t changed his Facebook status. When a guy is ready to move on, he makes it known to everyone around him. If he did it right up front, that might have been a brash decision, and he likely won’t change it back.


But, if after a couple of months, he still flies solo and hasn’t changed it, then that may be a sign he is waiting for you to return.

#5 He pumps your friends for information. If he still sees your friends and can’t help but ask about you, that probably isn’t simply concern for an old friend. Continually pumping for an update about who you are seeing, if you are okay, or how things are going with you, means he is probably trying to weigh his odds of making his way back into your life. If he didn’t miss you, why would he continue to ask?

#6 After repeatedly asking, he hasn’t returned your things. When a relationship is done you signal the end by divvying things up. If you repeatedly asked for some of your things back, and he refuses to oblige, he is trying to hold onto a piece of you.

If he didn’t miss you or hope someday to win you back, he would just give them back and be done.

#7 He drunk dials. If you get a call at two a.m. from his number when he has been out drinking, then you know when his inhibitions are down, you crawl right back up into his head. Don’t think that it is just about a booty call.

There is a drunk girl on every corner for that. If you are the first thing he thinks about when his brain goes to la-la-land, that means you aren’t out of his picture yet.

#8 He still has pictures of you all over the place. If he still has your picture up in his living room, by his bedside, or even in his Facebook photo, then he is definitely not over you.

Keeping your picture around would be irritating to him and scare away other girls if he was ready to move on. An inability to remove those items that remind him of you has “miss you” written all over it.

#9 His friends tell you he isn’t doing well. A guy’s best friend’s job is to help him get past his old girlfriend and move onto the next. If you see his old friends, and they sing you a sad story about how unwell he is doing, how he is depressed and isn’t himself anymore, that is their signal to you that you should step in to help.

If he didn’t miss you, his friends would barely say more than “hi” and make idle conversation. If they are trying to talk to you on a personal level about him, then there is reason to believe that they know he still misses you.


#10 His life has fallen apart. Guys think they are so tough that they can let someone they love go and will be totally okay. The problem is they don’t understand how much they rely on and need someone until you are gone. By then it is too late.

If he is depressed, his apartment and job have gone to shit. He looks like a woodsman who hasn’t changed his clothes in a month, those are all signs he misses the time you had together. He probably wishes you’d return to pick him out of the mess he has created for himself.

#11 He apologizes. One of the biggest indicators that a guy misses you is if they can, after the fact, come back to apologize for the way they treated you. It takes a lot of courage, and the loss of a lot of pride, for a guy to admit he is wrong.

It takes even more courage for him to admit it to the person he has wronged. If he writes you a letter, sends you a text message, or even shows up to say he is sorry, then he has been thinking a lot about what went wrong and how he was wrong to let you go or treat you the way that he has.


He may not say I miss you or come back, but those two words “I’m sorry” are sometimes even more powerful than begging.

#12 He hasn’t kicked you off his social media sites. When you are really done with someone, you go about defriending them and kicking them out of your world. If you are still friends, he is still on your feed and still a follower to your accounts, he is still interested in what you are up to. That typically means he still misses you.

You shared a ton of stuff. The reality is if you went through a lot together, he is naturally going to miss you. Depending on how things broke up, if things were ugly or tame, there are going to be parts of him that will miss the goods times that you shared. Even if, at the time of the break, the bad ones outweighed them. Time and distance makes us see things in a different light.

The past gives us a perspective we didn’t have in the heat of the battle. If you were once in love, there is always going to be some part of him that loves and misses the “you and him” that you used to be. If that is enough to make him come back or not, I can’t tell you. I just know that as much as you miss him, he probably equally misses you.

If you want to know if he misses you, stop waiting to hear it and look around. The signs can be much more powerful.

Justin Bieber's Exes Coming Together To Form A Clique. See Photos

Justin Bieber had a couple of high-profile flings this summer—with Sofia Richie and British model Bronte Blampied, specifically. Though both romances fizzled out quickly (at least for now), Bieber's recent exes don't seem to harbor any ill will toward one another. In fact, they're becoming legit friends.

According to MTV UK, Richie and Blampied have been peppering evidence of their budding friendship all over social media lately. And, for the record, it's pretty adorable.

They've been Snapchatting:

And Richie made their friendship Instagram official with a series of pics earlier this weekend.

This looks like a bona fide squad in the making, which means someone needs to put these girls in touch with Selena Gomez, STAT.

Justin Bieber Alleged ‘Nude Photo’ Leaked Via Ex’s Instagram Account

Justin Bieber: Alleged Fake Nude Photo of Singer Appears on Ex-Girlfriend's Instagram Account

A picture of Bieber without clothes on that was posted to Chantal Jeffries' account Thursday appeared altered, outlets reported. Jeffries later said that her account had been hacked.

Justin Bieber fans thought they’d been treated to another snapshot of the irritating singer’s junk yesterday – but all was not as it seemed…

The picture in question was posted from the Instagram account of Biebs’ ex girlfriend, Chantel Jeffries, The Mirror reports.

Instagram

However, it turned out that Chantel’s Twitter and Instagram accounts had been hacked.

As well as the ‘naked’ picture, there was a string of abusive messages targeting another ex, Selena Gomez, saying such lovely stuff as: “Selena gomez has a huge c**t,” and “Fuck Selena Gomez.”

In the end, it turned out Justin’s junk had been photoshopped, with the more eagle-eyed of Justin’s fans spotting that he had posted the same selfie shot to his own Instagram before – but without his cock out.

Instagram

After getting her account back after a few hours, Chantel had a simple message for the hacker, posting a snap of her giving the middle finger and captioning it: “Fuck u hacker. I’m back :)”

Luckily, it’s all sorted now, so it’s only Justin’s real junk which is still knocking about on the Internet

Sitting in my lawyers office like: Fuck u hacker :)

A photo posted by CeeJay The Dj💽 Or Chantz (@chanteljeffries) on Aug 18, 2016 at 4:23pm PDT

Biebs hasn’t had much luck with social media recently. Earlier this week he deleted his Instagram after clashing with both fans and Selena Gomez over pictures of his new girlfriend Sofia Richie.

The pair slagged each other off for a bit with Justin threatening to make his account private after his fans abused his new lady, with Selena advising him to calm down a bit…

Just, wow.