Dave, age 20

        I truly wish I had listened when everyone told me there was more fish in the sea. I wish I listened when they said that I didn't need him and that I could do better. Ohhh boy, do I wish I listened.

        Dave, age 20 was my high school boyfriend. We dated for two years and at 17 magically I had found my soul mate. Well one day he decided that he no longer saw me as a functioning person in society and I was dumped for the first time. The following three years we kept in contact, which allowed him to mind fuck me left and right. After he crushed my heart and killed me once, three years later all this mind fucking worked I decided he totally was worth all my pain and sadness and I took him back. Well since this is my first story on here I'm assuming you know how it ends.

       I was head over heels in love with Dave. He had this great way of making all my thoughts and opinions go away, along my self pride and lady balls. He was definitely that boyfriend who thinks its rational to break up with your girlfriend 4 times a week to show his umm lets call it.. man power. While dating Dave I became a completely different person. At this point in my life, I like to believe I had no soul. Dave sucked the soul right out of me and I belonged to him. I was one brain dead mother fucker.

     There was a period during this relationship where everything was going great, at least thats what my brain dead self believed. I remember this one day thinking I truly was going to marry this man, we had been through so much already and he was the one. Breakup after breakup Dave and I mastered the makeup sex routine. That night we drank some beers, (probably broke up for 10 minutes) then had sex and passed out in my bed. In the middle of the night I felt Dave roll over to get out of bed " Babe I have to pee, I'll be right back." So I thought nothing of it and rolled over. 

       Well what I didn't know was that during this pee, my true love had "sharted" his pants. While I was sleeping he did a great job at covering up his mess because I didn't actually find out until sometime later.
         A week had passed and while picking up my bedroom I found a plastic bag with clothes inside. I had just returned from a weekend trip to D.C. and assumed it was my missing bag of laundry I had packed away. Well... my nostrils and I were quite surprised after discovering it was definatly NOT my missing bag of clothes. When I opened the bag I found my boyfriend's week old shit pants. The man I was planing on having beautiful babies with left me a bag of ass-crap, shit-filled pants. It was fucking hide and go seek and I had been defeated. I don't even understand how someone poops their pants and leaves it?! How do you forget your bag of poop!??!

Needless to say, this relationship was short lived after finding this pot of gold.