Every Breakup Line Explained

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Nice Move

Every Breakup Line Explained

I was speaking with a girl and she asked me why guys felt so comfortable hooking up and then suddenly disappearing over text. I took a couple of beats to think about the feminist movement and how far it’s come, even though a large segment of women believe the responsibility of a breakup is purely on the other side. Then I felt my crotch, thanked God my balls were still attached, and answered her question. I told her that I assumed they both hooked up and had fun but there was a point where the guy knew it was a waste of time and the most difficult thing would be sending the following text:

“Hey wuz up? I had fun with you and you’re a good kisser but you and I will never be a couple so lets just move on 8===D~~”

She responded by asking why that would ever be so difficult. My answer was because for every girl that didn’t hear back there’s another girl that’s mad a guy thought the relationship was “something” enough to necessitate a break up. So, damned if you do, damned if you start looking for new chicks to eat sushi with. Girls always want an explanation that’s so direct that it would almost be evil. No guy is truly evil. So let me be the devil. The following is a translation of every break up line guys use so they don’t have to admit to being a pussy.

“Timing isn’t right.”
“Something is happening in my life that I’m pretty scared about. It’s the job that I hate or my impending graduation that leaves me without an explanation of who I am. But the hardest part is talking about that big thing with you. You see, every time I explain to you why the job hunt sucks or the prospects of moving home, I have to hear myself bullshit. Hearing yourself bullshit is like watching yourself masturbate in the mirror. You think, “I’m way too good at this and it’s kind of gross.” So, yes the timing isn’t right, but it’s really about wasting all that time explaining the crappy path I have to wade through until I get to some daylight. I just want to put my head down and get going with it while hooking up with whatever comes easily and without expensive gifts along the way.”

“It’s not you. It’s me.”
“It’s me. I swear it’s me. It’s the way I get on the bus every day and choose the hottest chick and then imagine she’s a freak. It’s the way I thought about you getting a haircut the other day just so it would be like having sex with someone new. It’s the way I was out the other night, got pretty drunk, and instead of meeting you, I went and ate Chinese food, then had the best sex of my life with my hand which had a fetish for me farting the whole time. It’s not you. It REALLY is me.”

“I just need to focus on my job (or school).”
“I really thought I’d have a better job (or GPA). And really, that isn’t your fault. It’s not like our sexual experiences take longer than a couple minutes (including foreplay). But honestly, I think I need to stop being so fat and happy. Your face is actually encouraging me to do nothing. It’s the same reason I don’t go to the gym anymore. Really, why would I? I get constant attention, regular sex, you still haven’t turned down a threesome (not that I asked), and all for the small price of a couple of texts and a cheap homemade dinner from an underachiever. So, what’s wrong with you? This is the classic, “It’s not me. It’s you” situation.”

“I want to take a break.”
“I’m a pussy. I’m an even bigger pussy than the “It’s not you. It’s me” guy. I’m really afraid of ending this, because, you see, there’s this thing called a blow job and you’re pretty darn good at it, but I’m curious to see if anyone else out there is willing to do such a ridiculous act. Then I’m going to rate you two against one another and, from there, make no decision at all. Because indecision is the land of multiple tongues.

“And, you know what? I’m even letting you go out there to do the same. It’s a great deal for both of us. We both get the land of tongues, but yours will have constant reminders that I could be coming back. Think of this break like a skydiving mission and you’re my emergency parachute. I jump into dating, knowing you’re still there, and if all else fails, I pull your cord and I’m back with your loving blow jobs again. Nobody gets hurt.”

“I think we should just be friends.”
“I don’t want to be your friend. I really have enough friends. I’m not going to end this breakup, high five you, then meet you at a bar next week to talk about chicks and sports. We started as two people with the same instant burst of energy that goes into swiping right on Tinder, and now we are putting one another in the left pile. I’m saying this hoping you’ll believe it. It’s the fastest way I can get out of this horrible mess and still be considered a ‘good guy.’ I go from relationship, to ‘friend,’ to a slow, fade-off into the distance of your life. If I hooked up with all my friends, I’d just be a bisexual with really awkward acquaintances.”

“It’s not you. It’s us.”
“This is the most honest I can answer ‘Why?’ without being evil. This just isn’t a match. You’re a really nice person, but I don’t really get along with your friends, we both try to be the life of the party, and I really hated that time you wore a jean skirt at my parents’ house, and I can’t get it out of my head. These things don’t make you wrong for everyone — just for me. Nine out of ten guys you meet will not be “the one,” and fifty percent of the time, “the one” ends in divorce. That’s desensitizing this thing so much that it’s like wearing a word condom, but it’s the honest truth. I wish there was any way to make this easier, but I’m just going to keep repeating this line because I know it’s the best I have to choose from on this list. Just please let me go so I can go fart and masturbate.”

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