Couple Stories

my boyfriend asked to give us some time and space, that he’s really stressed right now. I don’t know if that’s just gonna lead to a breakup or what that means for our relationship. He said a week but I’m still feeling anxious about it.

My husband often speaks in an angry tone. A Bit too loud, staccato. Just sounds pissed. When I ask, he never tells me right away whats wrong. I Need to did and dig. Sometimes he answers honestly, but often Not. Just a quick „no it’s ok“.

I cant bear it, especially when he used this tone with my 15 year old son. Of course the boy reacts and them it just takes off from there. I am fed up

I’m so embarrassed!!! And I feel like this is the end of everything!!!

Oh my god!! What is wrong with me! And I feel so bad!! So so sorry!!

Ok, getting to the point now. So little context here. I’m leaving for grad school in like 3 weeks. That’s it. 1,2,3, gone. And this last couple months has been a little hard. I’ve really tried to keep it under wraps, but it ALL came spilling out last night. Anyway, my boyfriend of 3 years is going on a trip. He goes on this trip every year to the same place with his dad and his brother. They plan for it for around the same time every year. But in turn for this one trip, my boyfriend must sacrifice any future time off. More context, I’ve been planning a trip right before I leave. Not even a full week, just 4-5 days. And I know from the past that if I ask I’ll be told no. So I didn’t really tell him I wanted him to come. But I do. I had this unrealistic expectation that he would not go fishing one year so he could come on a trip with me since he knows we don’t have a lot of time together left. And it’s a lot to ask of someone, so I kept it to myself. But all this week he’s been working extra long hours to compensate for leaving. And I made sure to be at the house every night so we could see each other a little before he leaves, but it was more like he would get home super late, eat dinner, we’d chat about our day for an hour, and he’d go to sleep. And of course he put off packing until the last day. I had had a long day, so I decide I want to have a drink chillax and read a book while I waited. I grab one, and I didn’t realize that I was so dehydrated that two drinks and I was drunk. Which isn’t normally that big of a deal. But he’d been packing for 2 hours and I was spinning and thinking of all the things that have happened this year- graduated college, moved in with boyfriend, went through 3 different jobs, best friend moved away, parents divorced, and all the little things throughout the week, and I had a panic attack. I was overwhelmed and drunk. And I feel so bad cause he had to comfort me, but he should have been packing and I was just a problem, and he probably is so annoyed and is questioning everything, cause everything came out! All my emotions and just all the build up and maybe I wanted a little bit of attention, cause there had been so little this whole week and there won’t be any next week, but it was the totally wrong way to go about it. I wasn’t planning on getting that intoxicated, but I didn’t do a very good job at monitoring myself either. Anyway, there were a lot of tears, some falling over, just an overall hot mess. And I told him all the things I was feeling- just everything! In no coherent order or way! And I feel so bad, cause it was such a asshole move of me!

Anyway, that’s my rant. I feel bad, and now I’m hung over and my boyfriend is probably glad to have some distance from me.

My (now ex, I suppose) girlfriend had a really bad day at work, and is expecting things to be bad tomorrow.

She was texting me about it, just talking about her day like usual. It was getting close to bed time. During a break in the texting, I took a shower and brushed my teeth.

While I was doing that, she tried to initiate sexting. I didn't see it because I took a shower. I replied as soon as I saw the messages. I missed them by nine minutes total.

I answered her, and apologized, explaining that I was in the shower. No reply for an hour. I was a little worried she was upset, but figured she just fell asleep. I sent a goodnight text and told her I was going to bed, wished her sweet dreams, all the usual stuff.

I get a long reply a few minutes later, saying, in short, that because I wasn't there for her, she hit up one of her reddit friends to sext instead.

I asked her if she was being serious, hoping it was just some kind of joke. We have explicitly discussed that we would be monogamous, and it just seemed really out of character for her.

Come to find out, she had sexted with this guy a couple of other times lately when she couldn't sleep, and she felt like I had disrespected her by "ignoring" her texts.

We talked a little more. She seems to think this isn't a big deal at all and doesn't understand why I am upset about it.

I don't understand. She couldn't even give me ten minutes before she assumed I was ignoring her and ran to somebody else for attention? I asked her if she had been drinking or something because this is really not typical of her. She said she hasn't been drinking.

So I guess three years together doesn't mean anything because I missed a text by 9 minutes, and she was clearly doing this stuff before now.

I told her I couldn't talk about it anymore tonight and that I'm going to bed, and that I'll text her again when I get up if she still wants to talk.

I can't sleep. I don't know if I should laugh or cry. This is so ridiculous. Part of me is hoping she's just making this up to make me feel bad for missing her message, but that's equally strange behavior coming from her.

Things have been going well between us. We were just looking for a place together last week. This is insane.

I still love her, but I don't think I can just move on and pretend this didn't happen. It's "just sexting" but I know exactly how she would respond if things were reversed. She would never forgive me for it.

I don't think I can just forgive her either, but I know something must be really wrong, and a lot more serious than just work stress.

Or maybe I just don't want to believe that I've been a fool.

So, there's this thing that’s been bugging me about relationships, and I really need to get it off my chest. I'm 24, just your average guy, and I've got this amazing girlfriend. But here's the kicker: I can't help but feel that I'm way out of her league in terms of looks. You ever had that nagging feeling? Like, she's a total knockout, and I'm just... me. It's not like I don’t trust her or anything, but it’s like this little devil is constantly whispering doubts in my ear. Annoying, right? I know confidence is supposed to be attractive, and I'm usually not too shabby at faking it, but in the quiet moments, self-doubt creeps in. You start questioning everything: “Does she really like me for who I am, or is she just settling for now?” Real talk, it sucks being stuck in that mindset, questioning your self-worth. And yes, I've read all the self-help articles and the whole “You should be grateful she’s with you” spiel. But gratitude doesn’t chase away insecurities, does it?

I keep asking myself if there's a way out of this insecurity abyss without turning into one of those jealous partners. You know the ones I’m talking about, right? The ones who constantly check their partner's phone or make passive-aggressive comments. Not a good look. The clichés don’t cut it either – like “be confident in your own skin” or “just talk to her about it.” Talking is great, but what if you bring up your insecurities and it just makes things awkward? I can't help but wonder if acknowledging these doubts puts a strain on what’s otherwise an awesome relationship. It’s like walking a tightrope. Ever heard the saying, “The more you know, the less you need to show”? Sometimes I feel like keeping my insecurities to myself is protecting our relationship from unnecessary drama. But then I circle back to thinking, “Am I being honest with her, or am I putting on an act?” It’s a real conundrum, balancing honesty with self-esteem. Maybe the answer is somewhere in between, like finding a way to work on myself without dragging her into it. Is it too much to ask for a society where we don’t measure attractiveness by looks alone? Anyway, if anyone has magic advice or just wants to share their two cents, I'm all ears.

We are currently long distance as she had to move back home to take care of her sick mother. Two days ago, she suddenly began experiencing severe pains. At first, she thought it was particularly bad menstruation cramps and gas. It has continued getting worse, so it is clearly not normal. She's miserable, she can barely get out of bed. I've been begging her to ask her uncle to take her either to a doctor or hospital. She is against this idea, as she doesn't have a lot of money and will only go if she thinks she is dying. I think that whatever this is may well be that serious, but I can't convince her of that. I've promised her I would pay the bill myself, it doesn't matter. She's just not willing, at least not yet. I don't know how bad it will have to be.

I am scared. My mother was similarly stubborn about getting medical help, and it led to her dying from a lung infection that became sepsis. I watched my die on a ventilator because of something a few antibiotics would've solved if she had been treated before. I don't want something like that to happen to my girlfriend. She's the love of my life, the thought of her sick is troubling enough but I am scared she's going to die. She is in terrible pain. She says she's never been in this much pain before.

I don't know how to get her help. Her mother has also been encouraging her to see a doctor. She is as worried as I am.

I could count on one hand the amount I cried in my entire adult life, until this. I'm scared and I know she is too. I feel terrible that I'm not there for her, but due to a stupid drug related offense on my record from a decade ago, I cannot travel to her country.

I'm not religious but I've been praying. I don't even know what I'm praying to. I just want her to be okay. I want to see her smile again. I want to give her a hug. I hate that she's suffering like this. I hate that I can't change her mind.

The thought of something happening to her makes me sick.

i’m twenty, in the middle of my university studies, and i still have at least three years before i can even think about finishing. i’ve been with my boyfriend for just two months now, and while things are going well between us, there’s this quiet but constant fear in the back of my mind that won’t go away. we’re not using any kind of contraception, which i know is incredibly irresponsible, but every time i think about bringing it up, i hesitate. it’s not that i think he would react badly — actually, he’s pretty understanding — it’s just that there’s this weird shame and discomfort around the subject for me. maybe i feel like talking about it would break the illusion that we’re just enjoying the moment. but what if enjoying the moment turns into a lifetime responsibility? i think about how a single decision or a single mistake could change everything i’ve planned for. i have goals, i have a future i’m working hard for, and the idea of pregnancy right now feels like it would dismantle all of that. i don’t hate the idea of being a mom someday, not at all, but right now it’s terrifying. do others my age feel this constant weight too?

i try to stay calm and rational, but my anxiety has been building up every time my period is even a day late. i read into every minor symptom — a slight cramp, a bit of nausea, even just being more tired than usual — and my mind jumps straight to the worst-case scenario. it's like i become hyper-aware of my body, overanalyzing everything it does. i find myself googling terms like "implantation bleeding" or "early pregnancy signs" in the middle of the night, even when i know it’s just me being paranoid. and yet, i don’t take action. no appointment with a gynecologist, no purchase of emergency contraceptives, not even a pregnancy test unless i'm really panicking. i wonder if this passive approach is some form of denial, like maybe if i don’t confront it directly, it won’t be real. but isn’t that dangerous? am i playing with fire out of fear of confrontation or some illusion of being in control? i know the biological and emotional consequences of an unplanned pregnancy can be massive, and yet i'm stuck in this cycle of fear and inaction. it’s so frustrating to know better and still do nothing. i feel like i'm failing myself somehow. 🫤

there’s also this overwhelming guilt that creeps in when i imagine the scenario actually happening. i picture myself having to tell my parents, explain to them how despite being the "responsible daughter" i always try to be, i let this happen. i picture the awkwardness of facing my professors or delaying my degree. even with my boyfriend, who i do care about, would things survive such a shift? we barely know each other on a deep level. what would co-parenting look like with someone i just met two months ago? we’re still figuring out each other’s boundaries, habits, values. how would we navigate something so life-altering without a solid foundation? and then i wonder — am i overthinking it all, or is it rational to worry this much? am i just another girl with a temporary freak-out, or is this fear justified by how unprepared and exposed i’ve allowed myself to be? i guess i’m writing this because i need to hear from someone who’s been here or is going through the same. how do you manage the fear of pregnancy when you know you’re not doing what you should to prevent it? how do you break the silence and finally take action, even if it’s just starting with a real conversation?

hey, just needing to clear my head a bit. i'm a 28-year-old guy, and i've been in my first real relationship for a while now. everything's going well, but i can't help wrestling with some insecurities. see, my girlfriend, who's amazing btw, has been in quite a few relationships before me. she's got this whole experience thing going on, and i sometimes feel like i'm playing catch-up. i know she loves me, but these nagging thoughts creep in, whispering stuff like, "what if she misses the excitement of past relationships?" or "are you good enough?" it's like imposter syndrome on steroids, and it's messing with my head. have you ever been in a situation where you felt less experienced than your partner, and how did you handle it? 🤔

i mean, communication is key, right? but every time i think about bringing it up, i'm worried it'll sound whiny or insecure, which obviously it is, but still. 😅 i don't want to push her away with my doubts. it's a vicious cycle, though – the more i tell myself not to worry, the more i actually do. it's like trying to ignore the elephant in the room. we all arguably bring baggage into relationships, but what do you do when you know yours might tip the scales? i've tried working on myself, becoming more self-assured, but remnants of insecurity still linger. do you reckon it'll always be this way? or is there a turning point where these thoughts stop showing up uninvited? maybe that's the million-dollar question for anyone in similar shoes. if you've got any insight, sharing would be awesome....

it's sometimes a curious thing how life plays out, isn't it? i've been around the sun 29 times, not claiming to have all the wisdom but perhaps just enough to understand the ebbs and flows of life. i was sitting down the other day, lost in thought, pondering over everything life has thrown my way. i find myself marvelling at how steady everything seems, how serene. and it hits me, like one of those 'aha' moments that people often talk about. all these feelings i have now, this tranquillity, it's largely because of him, my husband. he's kind of like the unsung hero in the movie of my life, always working behind the scenes to make sure everything falls into place and runs smoothly.

you see, there are days when i feel like i'm floundering, grasping at whatever stability i can find. yet there's always this unyielding anchor - that's him. maybe he's not perfect, but who is, right? there's this balance we have, like a well-rehearsed symphony. when i falter, he's the one holding the metronome, ensuring everything stays in rhythm. maybe you're wondering why i bother sharing all this syrupy stuff. but you know, every so often, one just feels the need to let some sunshine out, you understand what i mean? isn't it just nice when the little cogs in our universe align for a bit? i'm not saying i'm leaning on him like a crutch, but rather, it's a partnership that just works like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.

there's this funny thing about the mundane routine that we fall into, you know what i'm talking about? laundry, dishes, bills, the daily grind. on paper, it sounds tedious but in reality, it feels somewhat bearable - dare i say enjoyable - when shared. splitting the chores, which honestly sound like an endless project management task sometimes, becomes second nature with him. we don't need to draw up a Gantt chart to know who's doing what; we just know. even when i find myself buried under a pile of responsibilities, whether it's work-related or just life's curveballs, he's there with that ever-reliable presence. no fuss, no frills, just simple, genuine support. it amazes me sometimes, the depth of such reliability.

so, as trite as this might sound, i just wanted to put it out there. thank you, sincerely, genuinely, whole-heartedly. it's not every day one stops and acknowledges the small but significant acts of kindness and reliability woven into the fabric of their lives. i mean, don't you think it's important to just stop and have a moment of clarity and gratitude every now and then? our stories and experiences are our own but shared experiences like these - sharing the load, the chores, the routine - are what fortify the bonds we build. in this intricate web of everyday life, having someone like him fills the gaps with a warmth that, at least to me, feels incredibly profound. 😊

I ain't one to air my laundry, but sometimes it's freeing to just lay it all out there. life throws curveballs, and boy, did i get hit by one. my husband, bless his heart, decided to test our vows a couple years ago. cheated on me, he did. now, i ain't saying i'm perfect, but that knock knocked the wind out of me. i'm 47, been around the block, and you'd think i'd seen it all, but nothing prepares you for your partner's betrayal. it ain't easy, letting go of that kind of hurt. easy living is what i wanted, but life had other plans. by the way, how long does it really take to forgive? learned from a wise soul that, "forgiveness ain't about forgetting, but about letting go of the hold that pain has over you." and ain't that the truth? let me tell you, releasing that grip ain't a one-and-done deal.

from that day, things changed. our house felt different, like the walls knew secrets they shouldn't. "once trust is gone, it's hard to earn it back." a cliché, sure, but reality is cliches exist for a reason. tried therapy, tried talking, tried understanding the why's and how's. maybe i could've seen it coming, maybe not. questions like a spinning wheel in my head, asking, did i do enough? was i overlooking the signs? but hey, blaming myself ain't gonna fix a thing. i've learned not to carry that burden. laid it on him, rightly so. he messed up, not me. relationships are tricky business, and cautionary tales abound. but man, it hurts to be the one people wag their tongues about, even if no names are named. staying put, that's my choice, 'cause the heart and mind have minds of their own. ever been in such a dilemma yourself? if so, you'll know it's a matter of picking the pieces, even when some might be missing.

'm figuring out the whole forgive but never forget thing. my puzzle's still got gaps, and that's okay. life's not about having it all figured out, is it? daily, i remind myself of the good times, but the shadows linger. ain't saying i'm a saint, but i'm being kind to myself. "to err is human; to forgive is divine," or so they say. not divine, just human, with all the flaws and sorrows that come with it. hesitations and doubts live rent-free in my head, but that's part of the package deal called moving on. we ain't perfect, not you, not me, not my husband. but i feel you gotta let people learn from mistakes, right? and if second chances are a deal-breaker for some, who am i to judge? life's too short to hold grudges, but it sure as hell ain't too short to forget. what about you? where do you draw the line between forgiving and forgetting?

I’ve been married for five years, and for most of that time, it truly felt like I was living in a dream. We rarely fought, shared the same values, and were building a life together that felt stable, even joyful. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her.

But everything changed last year when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It was aggressive. We tried everything — surgery, chemo, second opinions — but none of it helped. Now we’ve moved into palliative care. The focus is no longer on saving her, just on easing the pain.

A few weeks ago, she sat me down and told me something I wasn’t expecting. She said she had reconnected with her ex-boyfriend after her diagnosis. That at first, it was just talking — reminiscing, catching up — but over time, she realized she still had feelings for him. She told me she still loved me, but that she also loved him. And now, in what may be the final months of her life, she wanted to explore that connection again — not instead of me, but alongside me. She asked me to support her in it.

I asked if she had cheated, and she swore she hadn’t. She said it’s just been emotional, not physical. But I couldn’t shake what it meant. I tried to understand. I told her she was free to do what she wanted — I wouldn't make this any harder by talking about separation or divorce — but I also told her that I couldn’t keep pretending we were still the same couple. I couldn’t hold onto the version of us I thought was real, not with this hanging between us. Something had broken.

She was hurt, and I get why. She ended up going to stay with her parents. Since then, most of the people around me have turned cold. They see me as the one who walked away, the one who abandoned her when she needed support most. And maybe that’s true. Maybe I should’ve found a way to just accept it — to be there, unconditionally, knowing this is the end. But I couldn’t. I still can’t.

It's all coming apart, and it is my fault.

It's kinda funny when you're the only single dude in a sea of couples. Feels like I'm the odd man out. I'm 31, and while my mates are all wrapped up in their romantic dramas, I'm left watching from the sidelines. Never had a girlfriend, never been on a proper date. People look at me like I should be in some sort of crisis, but honestly, I'm just trying to figure out how to be okay with flying solo. Like, is there a manual for this? Society loves to shove the idea of love down our throats, but it's not like I'm missing a limb or something just because I'm not in love. They say everyone's journey is different, but when you're the last single soldier, you start questioning if their "journey" line is just a polite way to say, "Bro, you're screwed."

Now let's get real. Alone isn't the end of the world, though. There's this article I read once; author's name escapes me, but they mentioned how the ability to enjoy your own company is an underrated skill. So, I’m trying to hunt down that “enjoying-my-own-company” skill myself. They say solitude builds character or some crap like that. I mean, seriously, it’s not like I’m some antisocial weirdo. I've got my stuff sorted—job, hobbies, and a half-decent social life, but I’m missing that one box everyone else has ticked. You ever sit at a dinner table alone while everyone else is paired off? Doesn't it make you wanna scream, "What the hell went wrong, and where was I when everyone else was figuring out this relationship stuff?" 😤

The comparisons are a killer, though. Scrolling through Instagram, seeing my friends' bae-this and boo-that posts, sometimes I want to throw my phone into the ocean. But then there are days when I genuinely enjoy not having to answer to anyone. Personal anecdote: came back from a long shift once, made the world's nastiest greasy burger, plopped down to binge-watch Netflix for hours. My buddies couldn’t do that without getting an earful from their partners. Freedom is just a term thrown around, but for single guys like me, it's reality. Am I missing out on romantic getaways and couple goals, or am I living my best life without any chains? There's no bias here; just facts about different lifestyles.

Still, there’s this nagging feeling sometimes. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, something's wrong with me. I know it’s dumb as hell, but I can’t shake it off. It’s like this internal battle of wanting what they have but not fully committing to it. Healthy? Debatable; Necessary? Might just be. But these feelings of doubt and solitude are part of the human experience, or so the self-help books keep saying. I’m not searching for sympathy or solutions; just venting out loud, trying to find my footing on this solo adventure. So, dear reader, if you’ve got the magic formula for being cool with solitude, I’m all ears. Or perhaps we're in the same boat, navigating through this solo life without a compass but making the most of what we’ve got.

so here I am, lying in bed again. 31 years old, male, and feeling like there's this weight on my chest that I can't shake off. my wife, bless her, keeps telling me to do something, anything really, instead of just staring at the ceiling. i just don't know if it's depression, or maybe i'm just stuck in this rut that's swallowing me whole. it feels like I'm trapped in this cycle of inertia, where motivation is a foreign concept and every day blends into the next without much differentiation. i wonder if it's normal to feel like this at my age? am I supposed to have it all figured out by now, or is everyone just pretending they've got their lives in order? the truth is, all I want to do is stay under these covers where it's safe and predictable. getting out of bed feels like scaling mount Everest minus the accomplishment. everything seems so incredibly daunting and exhausting even before the day begins.

i'm aware that i should probably listen to my wife; everyone says communication and action are key, but how do you act when you can't even muster the strength to care? it's like the more I think about doing something productive, the more drained I feel. the thought of tackling even the simplest task is paralyzing, and it's terrifying because it makes me question my capability as an adult; am i alone in this feeling, or is this a phase everyone goes through? should I worry about being present for responsibilities outside this room, or is it okay to take some time to figure things out? it's not that i don't want to improve, it's more that i can't envision what improvement looks like right now. why does it feel like i'm constantly fighting a battle against myself, and losing horribly? sometimes it's hard to distinguish whether this is just a temporary funk or if it's the prelude to something more concerning. does it get better with time, or does it require a drastic intervention to change? emojis don't usually cut it, but right now, i just feel like this 😞.

I keep replaying the moment in my head—when i told her i wanted a divorce. after twenty years of marriage, saying those words felt like ripping out part of myself, but staying had become a different kind of slow death. she’s not well, her health is fragile, and that’s what makes it all so much harder. i’m not heartless. i still care. but i was living with someone who chipped away at my dignity for years. disrespect doesn’t show up all at once; it creeps in slowly. a condescending remark here, a dismissive gesture there, and before you know it, you’re invisible in your own life. i tried. really. therapy, talks, compromises that only I kept. and when i finally realized that no amount of loyalty would bring back the man i used to be, i chose to leave. but how do you stop the guilt when someone you leave behind is struggling physically? it’s not a movie with a clean ending, it’s more like walking out of a burning house that still has someone you once loved trapped inside. except that person won’t take your hand even when you reach back;

some people tell me, “you did the right thing,” others ask, “how could you leave her now?” and i honestly don’t have a satisfying answer to either. the guilt isn’t just about her condition—it’s about the idea that maybe i should’ve been stronger, more forgiving, more patient. maybe i failed some unspoken moral test. yet at the same time, don’t i have the right to protect myself too? we don’t talk about that enough—how emotional erosion can kill you just as surely as illness. i wasn’t trying to escape responsibility. i was trying to escape becoming a bitter, hollow version of myself. but now, every time someone says her name or i hear that she's been in and out of the doctor’s office again, it hits me like a sucker punch. do i reach out? would that help her—or just help me feel better? is guilt something that fades with time, or something you carry like a scar?

i guess what i really want to ask is—how do you know when you’ve done enough? when does choosing yourself stop feeling like abandonment? i read somewhere that “self-respect is the fruit of discipline,” and i’m trying to believe that choosing to walk away was an act of discipline, not betrayal. but most days, the line is blurry as hell. i keep showing up for work, paying the bills, calling our grown kids, pretending like everything is fine. but underneath, it’s like dragging a bag of wet cement everywhere i go. maybe guilt isn’t something to get rid of. maybe it’s just proof that you still give a damn. but it’d be nice if it didn’t show up every time i sit alone in a quiet room. so yeah—if you’ve ever had to choose between staying loyal and staying alive inside, how did you stop feeling like the villain in your own story?

So around last December, me and a friend were sitting around a fire and the fire wouldn't stay lit so we decided to go to a bar. Well, I didn't feel like changing clothes bc I was comfortable, and it was cold asf. So I went out wearing my plush pajama pants and a Columbia fleece jacket which probably wasnt the best idea😂 well we got too the bar and we were playing pool and my buddy bumped into this dude behind us, and when he did it made the guy miss his shot. So the dude was not happy at all he turned around and pushed my buddy. So being the friend that I am I walked up and pushed this guy too the ground, and when I did one of his buddies came up behind me and uppercutted and grabbed and was squeezing tff out of my balls all at the same time. Until I went to my knees and when I got down to his level I remember him saying in my ear while still squeezing and twisting my balls "oh your boys are nice and fuzzy".Which i mean the pants are soft asff but there were so many people around. Including girls lol that heard that, and it was humiliating. I couldn't do anything but hold my inner thigh and hoped he let go. Well, it went on for about 30 more seconds. That's when i felt something pop and he let go. I instantly got to my feet, limping but walking. My buddy helped me walk out of the bar. I remember being sore and not being able to close my legs for a week. My gf still doesn't know about anything when she asked me what was wrong. I just told her I rolled my ankle bc she kept asking why I was limping. What would be a good way to tell her about this embarrassing situation?