About four years ago he was my everything, my first boyfriend, my first butterflys. we weren't for sure dating but v-day came and he got me a single red rose. i hung it upside down and let it dry out. then i put it in a little box and saved it.

We lasted almost a year and to my suprise he dumped me with a text message for another girl. i saved that rose for a while, until now. i went through my stuff and found that box, i smiled as i threw it in the trash. i knew that it was his loss because now there are three roses hanging on the wall, ive had my first kiss, and its been over a year.

I think I was about about 14 when I met Nathan. He was a few years older then me and somewhat awkward. He got teased a lot in school as he was incredabily big in size but not in brain power. Think an aussie version of shaggy from scooby doo. I had some great chats with Nathan over the 2 or so years we hung out but after a while I found his advances a little too much and backed off. He didn't. He would often drive next to me on the way home from school as I refused to get in his ute and turn up on my doorstep randomly with some random mate. I found it creepy at the time but looking back he was just a young guy with a crush. One late afternoon I heard his ute in my driveway. When I came out I was shocked to see a ridiculously giant teddy in the passanger seat with it's seat belt on. I hadn't seen Nathan for a while and this gesture was completly out of the blue. I tried to explain to him we weren't those kind of friends but he looked sad and asked me to keep it. That damn teddy has been such a hassle! It takes up most of any room it is in and could probably be used as a bed! I would have given it away straight away but I found one in a shop for about $350 so guilt made me hold onto. When I moved out of home I left it with my mother for her to carry as her burdon. About a year ago I found out Nathan died in a car accident with his brother. The teddy is still at my mothers.

A few years ago I fell in love with the one I thought I would be with forever. I picked up my life and moved over 5 hours away to be with him. At first things were amazing, on our anniversary (one whole month!) he gave me a diamond heart necklace that I never took off... It stood for our love and it was supposed to be ever lasting. After about a year of bliss I went home for the holidays and he stayed home (he couldn't get the time off of work). December 23rd I found out that he was in a hotel with another girl, I called him and confronted him about it and he begged for my forgiveness... and I took him back.

Everything was fine for about 6 months, until he started acting weird again. One day his cell was ringing and I picked it up... He flipped out and knocked me over trying to get the phone away from me. I knew then and there he was cheating on me again. I confronted him and he admitted it... He also told me that I had a week to get out of our home because his new girlfriend was moving in. I packed up my stuff and moved far away.

For the longest time I couldn't hold my head up high and I still continued to wear the heart necklace he had given me. One day after all the heartache and begging him to take me back it all clicked - why would I ever want someone who treated me like that?  I took the necklace off and stored it away. One day my friend was looking for donations of old items for an auction to support a dying child in the area. The next day I brought in the necklace and gave it to her. The necklace sold at the auction for quite a bit. It made me happy to know that out of all the misery that the relationship caused me, it ended up helping someone in the end.  I'm now happier than I've ever been dating a guy that I've been friends with for 6 years.  My ex is engaged to the girl he kicked me out for.  I wish them the best of luck.

I was sixteen and I was spending my first Valentine's Day with my first boyfriend ever. Somehow or another, there entered this gray plush alligator with a rose in its mouth. Either it was for him, or it was for me, can't remember... but somehow, I ended up with it. I loved that thing. I slept with it every night, and he took it when I went off to college.  Alfred the Alligator passed between us every time we saw one another, until it finally ended up with me. We tried to patch things together after two and a half years of a shaky relationship, and I finally cut ties completely just shy of three years. But I still had Alfred.

When I finally moved to the city I live in now , I adopted a wonderful Labrador-mix puppy to be my constant companion in a strange place. As I was unpacking, I unearthed Alfred and set him aside to be thrown away later. You can imagine my surprise and great amusement when I came back into the bedroom to find my puppy happily ravaging the last physical memory of a bad relationship. Alfred currently lives with the nearly grown dog, where she still cheerfully shakes him around, chews on him, and then curls up to go to sleep on him.   Ah, karma.

i had a boyfriend about a year ago, and around christmas he went shopping with my best girlfriend to pick me out a present with her help. well, they went into this hello kitty store and he decided to buy me a gigantic, stuffed pig. god knows why he would spend $80 on a stuffed animal, but i loved it nonetheless. that is until the 8th time he cheated on me and i realized the symbolism behind his buying me a pig of all animals.

I was given this amazing necklace right before we were married and after about a month I took it in to be cleaned.  When the jeweler looked up the name, to my suprise, my new husband had bought it for another woman. He didn't realize that even though I had it now, the warrenty would still be under the name of who he put it under. So I was given a gift that he had bought for another woman and to make it worse, it was while we were together.

Around halfway through a 12+ year relationship, I received a birthday present from my friggin' beloved via FedEx. We were in the midst of one of many apprehensive reconciliations and he REALLY wanted to woo me this time. Upon opening the package, I thought, He knows I already read this. But the card instructed me to turn to page three. Apparently Mr. King doesn't "do autographs" very often. I still have no idea how he obtained the thing, but it remains in my home, a memento of a very rocky, love-torn "chapter" in my life.

This picture was a gift from my college boyfriend. It turned out that we had a lot of gift-giving occasions really close to each other which got to be expensive especially since we were students. So I had the brilliant idea that we would make each other gifts because it would be more special…and cheaper.

I didn’t know at the time that Tom had taken up painting, which isn’t really something you just “take up”, especially when it comes to painting portraits. This was his attempt at copying a photograph of the two of us onto a canvas. Considering that my head isn’t twice the size of a normal person’s, I had every right to be offended at this portrayal of me, but I of course acted excited and stunned by his thoughtful gift. Oh, and I had to keep it on my mantle until we broke up.

I will probably always have this picture, mainly because if any of my friends or family finds out that I’ve thrown it away, I will surely find them digging through my trash trying to save it and it will then make appearances at every event, wedding, and family function for the rest of my life. It’s also always good for a laugh, so it often gets pulled out of the closet to show off to guests; I just have to make sure no one walks off with it. Oh, and I have never again suggested to a boyfriend that we make gifts for each other. I definitely learned my lesson on that one!

It was my first vacation away from my parents. I was 13 years old and it was really a babysitting job that took me to a resort up in the mountains. My job was to sit at the resort with the kids while the rest of the family went out skiing and snowmobiling.

With nothing better to do we moseyed into the arcade. There he was! The boy of my dreams (he was probably 16, an older man!) My hormones were racing but I had a responsibility, so came back later that night.

I had never kissed a boy, let alone a french kiss. Long story short, the parents of the kids caught us making out and I got into a load of trouble. I walked away from it with a secret treasure. Mid sucking face, he had given me his already-been-chewed gum. I found it in a baggy 13 years later. Who keeps that kind of stuff?!! It goes way past the point of sentimental and it's really gross but is an essential reminder of my first kiss.

I wracked my brain trying to recall something, anything, that I had left to remember a former girl friend, something physical, and I couldn't come up with a single tangible thing that wasn't treatable with antibiotics.

There was the glass griffin mounted on a burl wood pedestal with the chipped wing tip that didn't survive more than two moves, but she wasn't a girl friend--she was more like a stalker. Beth was her name. She was kinda creepy, but it was a nice griffin. There was the guitar pin, but I can't remember from whom. Of course, there's always the emotional scar tissue, but even that's pretty well receded into the mists of time like the fading of a daguerreotype photo.