How i got my Ex Back!

by Jennifer Love

We texted incessantly for a month and went on our first date to an ice cream festival called The Scooper Bowl. I missed the train, and we kissed. We began a summer fling where we’d walk around Boston holding hands, eating pizza, and watching TV cuddled up on her couch. She made that summer in Boston perfect. It was only two months, but it was unfiltered romance.

Throughout our courtship, I was utterly under the control of my ex-girlfriend. I let her walk all over me. She would call me at 4 A.M. and only stop calling when I answered. Being in college, I decided to drive down south where she lived to see if our relationship could work. I asked Mary to wait for me while I figured it out. She didn’t want to. Obviously.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Okay.” We hung up. Not even a minute later she called me back and let me have it.

“What the fuck, Jeremy?! You’re ending this because of her? She treats you like shit. Fuck you. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

She told me I broke her heart, blocked me on Facebook, and said we would never (ever, everrrr) get back together.

I’m a writer, not a talker, so when I broke down one night reeling from the gravity of my mistake, I actually wrote Mary a letter.

I assume it opened with “Mary, I’m an idiot…” She now says it was tear-stained. Regardless, it worked. She texted me to say she had gotten the letter, which led to hanging out as friends, which led to drinking as friends and eventually a relationship.

It was good, but the toxic feelings from the first breakup followed us wherever we went. Mary had let go of that fun-in-the-sun, summer-fling, freewheelin’ attitude I had desperately tried and failed to bring to our last relationship. She had made new friends and learned valuable lessons since our breakup, the biggest one being that guys who try to hold on to their high school ex-girlfriends are as dumb as they are stupid.

She’d get mad at me for forgetting to text, breaking plans, and generally being a croissant-level flake. In turn, I’d get mad at her for getting mad at me; she was the only girl I’ve ever had a full-on screaming match with in public. We weren’t those people, but we were turning into that couple.

As Mary eloquently puts it nowadays, “You were a real piece of shit back then.” I was a perfect storm of idiocy. I was always angry at myself for letting her go, angry that we didn’t act like a normal couple, and angry that we were constantly fighting.

In 2012, my little brother Adam died. My life shattered, and I spent the next month drunk in bed. It had been four years since Mary and I had spoken, but it spoke volumes to me that she came out of the woodwork to send me a handwritten note expressing her sorrow for Adam’s death. Through everything—the fights, the skipped plans, the immaturity—she found it in herself to reach out to me. I was blown away, and she was back in my life. We learned that we only lived a few blocks away from each other, and that is how we started dating for the fourth and final time. Once again we started seeing each other as friends. We always met up at this one café in the Lower East Side. I’d get a coffee, and she’d get a bagel.

This is when I felt like I really met Mary. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t jealous, and I wasn’t distracted—I had a clear mind, and I loved her. She was the kind of girl I’d always call back, and always take out for dates, and always hold hands with. She’s the kind of girl I never want to be away from. I’d seen what life looked like without Mary (cue damp Jimmy Stewart shouting “Mahhhhrrrrrryyyyy, don’t you remember me Mary?” in It’s a Wonderful Life), and I had a new appreciation for her. I loved the person she had turned into: She had built a life for herself in New York and was the person I know she always wanted to be—she grew her bangs out, too, which I guess is a big thing for women?

One night in 2013, she asked if she could stay over, and I more or less spilled my guts to her and admitted my intense feelings. She said she didn’t reciprocate. It would take about nine months of hardcore wooing before Mary finally said she had feelings for me. In 2016, three years after that night and almost ten years after our first date, I asked her to marry me and she said yes.

There was a “trick” to getting Mary back for good. Going through a tragedy had changed me. It was terrible, but it helped me grow the hell up, and by the time Mary and I crossed paths again, I was ready to be the kind of person who texts back and keeps plans and buys presents for no apparent reason. We don’t yell at each other in the street anymore, and that’s pretty cool.

It’s miraculous that Mary ended up giving me so many chances, but she always tells me that I was the same person as I was back in 2008—just way less shitty. She always loved 2008-era me; I just needed to get my head on straight. I hope that part makes it into her vows.

Here is how i did it i followed this program to the letter we have not had a fight in almost 12 years. i mean we may disagree but not like it was before this program saved my life click here to learn more!