He wasn’t my conversational equal. I’d suspected as much all along: We’d talk about one or two things, come to a lull, and I’d mentally declare “cuddle time!” It was springtime, and I guess the fever had gotten to me. Anyway, I knew it was a bad sign when we were on the phone and I’d wish one of my friends would call me to rescue me from our lame conversations.

—Carmen

Aftermath: After an intense month of hanging out or talking every day (about jack s***, apparently), we called it quits.

I figured out he was just agreeing with everything I said and did. It was creepy, really. Like he had no personality of his own.

—Suzanna

Aftermath: I waited until after St. Patrick’s Day to break up with him. It was a big day for his restaurant, and I wanted to support him. Unfortunately, I got completely blotto and ended up puking in his bathroom all night. The next morning I told him we “just didn’t have anything in common” and had the best drive back to my house ever.

We worked together at a bar and you know how that goes: Sweaty work tensions can be relieved with sweaty play. One night after closing the place, we end up back at her studio apartment and go directly bed-wards, where things were marvelous. Afterward, as she slept, I had to use the bathroom and I noticed something very strange about her apartment. She didn’t own a single book. Not one. Not even a thriller or a bodice-ripper or a Reader’s Digest Condensed Classic. That was that.

—Will

About a year or so into our relationship, my first significant girlfriend made me a mix tape. It was then that I learned that she really, actually, genuinely LIKED the Steve Miller Band. I probably already knew this, but the reality of this fact didn’t hit me until I got that mix tape, popped it in the boombox, and heard the opening riff to “Space Cowboy.” Had I followed my gut reaction at this exact moment, I would have dumped her for good and never talked to her again. I F***ING HATE STEVE MILLER.

—Collin

Aftermath: This relationship dragged on and off tortuously for more than FOUR years.

I met a guy who worked at Pet Smart, and we went on a date the next Friday. We went back to my place, and I went to put on my sexy lingerie. I came out to my date simulating doggy-style sex with my dog. I proceeded to watch him slap my dog’s *ss. After I interrupted the two, he said my dog had a nice *ss.

—Andrew

Aftermath: I had to give my dog up for adoption. Unfortunately for Rover, he ended up with an adoption agency that was located in the same Pet Smart the guy worked at. The agency called me a day after giving him up, saying Rover had been adopted.