“Crying for Help”

chemistry Uncategorized

We were in a three year on-again, off-again relationship that went from engagement to genuine public animosity and back, punctuated with booty calls and jealousy. One night after sex at my place she began crying and wouldn’t tell me why, then abruptly left. The next morning she called and said she’d been seeing this guy and thinks she might be in love.


Aftermath: She called intermittently after that; a week later to tell me that I’d better get tested for STD’s; a month later to tell me that she’d been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder; three months later to tell me that she was engaged. I eventually changed my number. She was married within six months of that night at my place.

This post was submitted by Herve.

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“(Not) Jealous Much?”

chemistry clashes

We were at a bar with friends. A young, attractive French man was showing interest in me. Later that night, when I asked my boyfriend if the incident made him jealous, he looked me in the eyes, and, with all seriousness replied, “No.”


Aftermath: Hint taken. Thanks for being blunt.

This post was submitted by Jennie.


“Compare / Contrast”

best of chemistry

I found a compare/contrast list comparing me to his ex-girlfriend and I objectively thought she was a better choice.


Aftermath: We broke up, got back together. Went through counseling. Now we’re happily married with 2 kids.

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“Cradle Robber”


I am 48 and was dating a 55-year-old guy. I knew it was over when he told me about an 19-year-old girl that had a crush on him. He referenced a conversation he had with his friend about what he would talk with her about after sex, and he said, “Tell her to go home.”


Aftermath: It made me sick to my stomach (my daughter is only 8 years from 19) and I realized then I was not his type…and didn’t want to be.

This post was submitted by Laurie.

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chemistry sex

I’d wanted this guy BADLY, and I waited for a long time (we worked together and were both exiting relationships). It was torture, but the good kind. We finally had our chance to be together and he was packin’ heat, but not so great on the side-dishes. I still liked him. Then, he asked “Didja?” (Did I have an orgasm?) I said, “Well, not this time, but no complaints.” Then, this manly Army guy pouted for an hour, then yelled as he was walking to his truck at midnight, “SAY GOODBYE TO THE F***ING LOSER!”


Aftermath: I asked later if he was just joking. Did I misunderstand a humorous gesture? Nope. Pouty McB*tchyman = instantly over.