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This article is based on a true story.
After spending weeks brooding over how to respond to his breakup and intellectualizing everything about his dead relationship and himself, Nicolas was fed up. The 17-year-old’s proverbial cabin pressure finally dropped, and he started to plummet toward his own self-created little hellhole.
He knew it was a stupid idea. He knew he was acting like the world’s biggest simp. But he believed he could actually pull it off and become an exception, a hero in his own fairytale. So, with an all-consuming desire to prove the world wrong, he did the unthinkable.
Despite being relatively unfit and having limited hiking experience, he went for a day-long hike across rough and snowy Utah terrain to visit his ex-girlfriend. With him, he brought six peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a bottle of water. His plan was simple: get to his ex on foot to show his commitment to rekindling things, profess his unyielding love, reunite, and then make it back home in time for dinner.
Easy, right?
Well, there was just one problem. Late afternoon, while Nicolas was blazing through his planned trail with an ugly grin on his face, daydreaming about reuniting with the supposed love of his life, the temperature dropped, and it started to snow in spades. The conditions promptly forced him to spend a good chunk of his route bulldozing through waist-deep snow and eventually to stop.
During his standstill, he noticed he got disoriented by the heavy snowfall. It was like looking through a mildly transparent white curtain. The only thing he could see was an occasional blob depicting a remote blotch of pine trees in the distance. He didn’t know how to get back home nor how to get to his ex’s place.
While catching his breath, face flushed, knees weak, panic already starting to seep in, Nicolas clumsily pulled out his phone and opened Google Maps. I’m fucked, he thought. Turned out he didn’t have service on his trail, so the app didn’t work — he couldn’t even call or text anyone for help.
He was lost and alone and relegated to uncomfortable improvisation. So he dug up a small snow cave under a tree to protect himself from the elements and keep the strong winds at bay. He then curled up into a ball, set the timer on his phone to go off every 30 minutes so he wouldn’t fall asleep, and kept tapping his hands against his chest to keep his blood flowing.
While spending the night in his tiny hellhole shivering, wishing everything would be over soon, and little by little losing hope, something occurred to him. It occurred to him he still had his ex’s beaded bracelet in his backpack — a bracelet she gave to him early in their relationship. One that “reminds him of everyone who cared about him.” Bracelet in hand, clutched close to his heart, he made it through the night.
After the sun surfaced, he left his little snow sanctuary under the tree, along with his wet clothes and boots too frozen to tie. Following a short period of roaming, he eventually stumbled upon some skiers in the distance. They immediately came rushing toward him when they saw the state he was in. And after calling for help over a satellite phone they had, a helicopter whizzed our White Knight to the hospital, where they treated him for frostbite and hypothermia.
Now you’d think that after everything Nicolas went through, his ex would give him another shot after he told her what happened and that everything would turn out Gucci… Well, fuck you — there is no happy ending to this story. His ex rejected him, and they never got back together. The end, bitch.
***
Consider this story a warning. You must prioritize yourself over your ex and have things in your life that you care more about than rekindling your relationship. You must fend off the tendencies to marginalize and emotionally destroy yourself for someone. You must avoid this idiotic mentality of doing everything you can to get your ex back that’s so widely encouraged today. Or else you’ll wind up just like our soy boy beta cuck Nicolas in some smaller or larger way — and you will be miserable for it.
On the other hand, consider this story a soothing balm because there’s a good chance you’re not like Nicolas — and you likely never will be. Find solace and comfort in this. Hell, revel in the fact that you probably never have and never will embarrass and disappoint yourself and those around you to this magnificently tragicomical degree.
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