My girlfriend dumped me three times, why did I keep on going back for more?

John's* relationship with Kate* was a rollercoaster ride, with her dumping him, and then coming back again, several times.

We’ve all had partners who we look back on as 'the one that got away' but it’s unlikely many people have had one who got away three times.

That’s what happened with Kate*, a girl I dated when I first went to university.

She was studying English Literature and looked like a young Audrey Tautou – I was smitten from the moment I laid eyes on her. Our first encounter came during Freshers’ Week when a drunken snog turned into a month-long fling that ended when she decided that she had jumped into a relationship a little too early and that she would rather be free to enjoy her new life at university without a boyfriend in tow.

The first goodbye

Read into that what you like, but the fact that just a few days later I saw Kate locking lips with one of the rugby team pretty much told me all I needed to know. But I understood that.

After all, we were both 19, away from home for the first time and there were so many new experiences to be had. And new people to meet.

Being in the same halls of residence, it was inevitable our paths would cross and when we did bump into each other, the conversation was never awkward and, often, a little flirty.

In December, a week before the end of the first term, there was the annual Christmas Ball at a hotel in town and Kate was there, looking amazing.

That night, over cocktails and canapés, we spent hours chatting and ended up going home together. We spent the rest of the week with each other too and, this time, it felt different. I even bought her a Christmas present I could ill afford.

But when we left for home, things changed. I think I spoke to her three or four times over the month away from university but it was always me calling her, never the other way around.

The second rejection

When we got back to university, we met up over coffee and she told me she had been thinking about things over the holiday and thought it better if we stopped seeing each other, muttering something about having to knuckle down with her course studies and preparing for the summer exams, even though they were four or five months away.

I suggested we give each other a bit of space and see each other a little less often but she was adamant. So we were done. Again.

Sure, I was upset but I suspected it was coming, especially after Kate’s indifference over Christmas (and the fact she didn’t get me a Christmas card, let alone a present).

My friends joked we were becoming the Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor of the campus, a couple who couldn’t live with each other and who couldn’t live without each other.

Only Kate, quite clearly, could live without me. That’s why she dumped me for the third and final time.

Spring became summer and the exams came and went. Now, we had endless days of doing nothing before we all headed home again for the summer break.

With a month or so to kill, we would hang out, drinking beer and having picnics in the local parks or having long afternoons in the local pub. I think Kate was bored if I’m honest. That’s why we inexplicably got back together again.

Why did I agree? Because a) I was punching way above my weight if I’m being completely honest and everyone fancied Kate, and b) I was 19 and my hormones were running riot.

I still wonder what made me the type of person who can suffer rejection (in this case, more than once) and just let it slide, content to go back and put myself in exactly the same position yet again.

Was I too easy-going? A little timid? Or just a walkover?

I’ve always been one to avoid confrontation but, really, I shouldn’t have been so much of a doormat. And I regret that.

Today, as a married man with kids, I’d like to think I’m a bit forthright with my opinions and unafraid to tackle confrontation as and when it appears. I think it’s called self-respect. Either that or you care less about what people think when you get older.

That was never the case with Kate.

This time, the writing was on the wall from the outset after a row where we both took turns blaming each other for what had gone wrong in our previous dalliances, even though it was never my decision to call things off.

No going back

Still, we persevered for a few days more but on the last night before everyone headed home it finally came to a shuddering halt when the row we had reignited again and Kate threw a drink in my face in front of everyone and stormed off. I should have known it wouldn’t last.

When I look back at the rollercoaster ride with Kate, I can laugh now but I’m also a little embarrassed. Going back to her time after time was, on reflection, more than a little desperate and I’d like to think that if I had my time again, I’d have told her to sling her hook way before she got in there first. Or second. Or third.

Read more: All of Yahoo UK's How I was dumped stories.