He liked me so much that I agreed to date him. The first red flag should have been that he was a 34 year old virgin. The second should have been that he shouted racial slurs at the television when minorities were pictured. And, finally, he had a confederate flag on his truck. The last straw was when he didn’t think I should have any friends, so that I could be available to him at all times.

—Sarah

Aftermath: I picked a fight with him on a topic that I knew would make him so mad he would walk out. He tried to make up the next day but I said it was over. He said that he still wanted to date me even though he didn’t like me as a person.

We were spending a week near a lake, and one night sitting on a bench on the shore, full moon, beautiful romantic night, hand in hand, with a wonderful glass of wine. She said she was very thankful for me bringing her here and spending this week together. Right after this, she asked to be alone for a few minutes.

—B.

Aftermath: The next day we went home and instead of spending the rest of the week together, she went out with her friends without inviting me. I called her and heard her drunk friends singing in the background. I yelled with her for a few minutes, then never called her again.

I dated him for about 8 months, then he told me he never loved me.

—blaqwynter

Aftermath: He lived with mommy and daddy, smoked too much, the sex was bad, and drove mommy and daddy’s vehicle. He was a loser anyway!

I knew it was over when he bought me a copy of World of Warcraft for my 18th birthday.

—AllyCatraz

Aftermath: It officially ended on our two-year anniversary, when he called me to say he wouldn’t be picking me up from work because he “just got into a group for a raid” in on the online game. We’re still friends though.

I met a wonderful, smart, attractive man who was, surprisingly, interested in pursuing a relationship. It was fun, sexy, and the most “adult” relationship I’ve had to date. I should have known, though, that as soon as I saw his girl hands—his tiny, tapered, dainty fingers—I had found my deal-breaker. Unless he planned on mountain-climbing bare-handed to toughen those bad boys up, there was no way they were coming near me again.

—Lydia

Aftermath: We dated for a few months, but the hands, combined with growing emotional dependence, sent me running. We’re still friends. He doesn’t know why I really broke it off.