One of the best things about being thirty and older is that you develop a low tolerance for drama in partnerships, gaining a deeper perspective in life as you discover that there is so much more out there than needing to have a significant other at all times.

I ended a four-month-long roller coaster of a relationship with a twenty-six-year-old after deciding that there were too many things about her personality that just didn’t rest well with me. After three months of silence, she contacted me and promised that she would work on her personal issues, and for reasons unclear to me, I elected to give her one last chance on the condition that we take things slowly.

After only a week of communicating only by phone and Facebook, she left me a message.

Girl: “Okay, you know what? I’m done playing around. If you don’t want to be with me, have it your way. I’ve met this guy from [City] and he treats me with way more respect than you ever did!”

She listed all kinds of things about him.

Girl: “I feel strong and safe with him. He is going to be going to [Location] for a vacation and he wants me to come along — and you know what? I’m going with him! It’ll be just him and me! So there! I hope you feel happy now that you blew it with me! Don’t even bother trying to contact me because I’m changing my number! Have a nice life!”

Had I been twenty-one, I would have been ringing her back and trying anything to make her happy. But now, having had all the experiences, I…

…deleted the message, grabbed my tennis racket, and headed for the courts.

Amusingly enough, she contacted me again only a week later.

Girl: “Here is my new number if you ever want to talk and fix things between us.” 

This was later followed several days later with:

Girl: “Okay, I’m sorry. That guy doesn’t really exist; I made it up to make you mad. Can we start over?” 

Neither message got a response. I’m still single, but I’ve learned that it’s better to be happy and alone than to be miserable in a relationship full of drama!

This story is part of our Best Of June 2021 roundup!

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My girlfriend and I are attending the wedding of one of her friends. When it gets to dinner, I’m served chicken.

Me: “Err, when you ordered the meals, did you get me a vegetarian one?”

Girlfriend: “Yes… No. I don’t remember. Can’t you just eat it?”

Me: “You know I don’t eat meat. I’m going to ask for something different.”

Girlfriend: “I don’t understand why you’re making a big deal out of this.”

Me: “I’m not discussing this with you now.”

I managed to get hold of a waiter, only to find out that only a certain number of vegetarian meals were made and there were none left. So, for dinner, I had a slice of tomato and five green beans. My girlfriend blamed me.

We aren’t together anymore.

I’m home from university during my first year. I’m out with some friends from my hometown, catching up over a few drinks. I get a text message from my girlfriend. I read the preview line of the message.

Preview: “Oh, my God, I think I’m pregnant…”

My heart stops, my blood runs cold, and the bottom drops out of my stomach. We’re both only eighteen and we have only been dating a month or two. Neither of us is in a position to be having a child. Not to mention, the few times we have been intimate, we’ve taken sufficient precautions, so the question of HOW this might have happened is also racing through my mind.

I open the conversation to read the rest of the message and begin to formulate a response. And then, I read the full text.

Message: “Oh, my God, I think I’m pregnant with an Indian Food Baby. I have eaten SO much curry! How’s your night going? xxx”

There is one particular actor who, for whatever reason, my brain absolutely refuses to record the name of. I have seen him in at least a dozen movies, in a broad range of roles, and he’s been acting for longer than I’ve been alive. But I simply CANNOT remember his name.

Every time he comes up in conversation, I sigh, rack my brain, and finally resort to imitating a famous scene of his because I CANNOT remember his name.

I don’t think this is too unusual, until one time I start trying to describe a movie to my girlfriend.

Me: “It had this one character, who… D*** it, I can never remember his name, but—”

Girlfriend: “Jack Nicholson.”

Me: “How did you know?!”

Girlfriend: “Because every single time you say that, you always follow it up with, ‘Heeere’s JOHNNY!'”

My boyfriend and I have just been intimate. We’re sitting on the bed chatting about it.

Boyfriend: “And you were all, ‘Tell me I’m bad! Tell me I’ve been bad!’ but I don’t— I just—”

He sputters a bit.

Boyfriend: *Flustered* “I don’t want to! You’re a nice lady!”