During our freshman year at different colleges, my high-school girlfriend and I decided to spend the summer in Russia. Or rather, she decided that she wanted to, and I, hopelessly in love with her and eager to see her over the summer, decided to start taking Russian as an excuse to join her.

But she dumped me in March. I had already sort-of committed to the summer, but not really. Yet in my infinite wisdom, I thought myself left with only one choice- follow her to Russia to win her back.

The 8 weeks I spent in St. Petersburg were, as one might imagine, terrible. I had no friends and didn't speak the language. I lived in a homestay with an 80-year old Russian woman. Oh, and I watched as she (my ex, not the 80-year old) fell in love with a Russkie, who, in my pathetic attempt to be near her, I sort of became friends with.

When I got to the airport to come back to America, dejected and stupid as I'd ever been, I didn't see my flight on the departures list. I asked around in broken Russian, and found out that there are actually 2 separate terminals of the St. Petersburg airport, and I was at the wrong one. Needing to get to my flight asap, and discombobulated as hell, I accepted a cab driver's offer to get me there for around $100, most of the money I had left.

When I got to the right terminal, the customs officer told me that there was a problem with my visa. I couldn't leave until I got it taken care of, and the next flight wasn't for 3 days. It was back to the nasty 80-year old woman.

Except when I got there, she was gone, and the door was locked. When I called her, she told me that she had gone to her dacha (Russian country home), and wouldn't be back for a month.

So at this point, I have no money, no girl, and no place to sleep. I got my visa taken care of, but still had to lug most of my stuff (except for what I'd left at the airport) around for 3 days. The only person I could call was... my ex's new boyfriend.

But, pathetic as I was, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

So my last 3 nights in Russia were spent on a cold beach, in a train station, and in a 24-hour bookstore. I almost got a full night's sleep in the bookstore, but was awoken by a terrifying man yelling at me in Russian. When I clearly didn't understand him, he said, in a not-too-accented English, "Get out."

So I arrived in America dirty, dumb, and loveless. If that's not enough to get someone over an ex, nothing is.