After a long night out with his guy friends, he came home, didn’t realized both the toilet seat and lid were down and proceeded to urinate all over the toilet, the floor and the wall.

–J

Aftermath: After making him clean up (to my standards), we were together for more than a year after (4 years total.)

I knew it was over when he said he’d call me in 5 minutes. Five minutes, 5 hours, 5 days, 5 weeks, 5 months, 5 years went by and I never heard from him again.

—Maria

Aftermath: After a while I tried to call but I had forgotten his number. I guess that was that.

He had left a note for me stating that he knew that I didn’t love him anymore. He was right, so I left a note for him confirming this, (I had school all day and wouldn’t be seeing him again until late that night). Later, I found out that he wasn’t planning on moving out and that he wanted to co-exist in my one bedroom apartment.

–Kara

Aftermath: I told him to leave. I couldn’t understand why he’d want to continue living together knowing good and well that it was over.

He found my jeans on the floor and pulled them on, thinking they were his. They fit. And they looked kinda good. And he danced around in them for a second, reveling in the fit.

–K

Aftermath: We broke up for other less ambiguously gay reasons not long after. but this is the horrifying moment I remember, over and over again..

I dated a guy who was way into the Society for Creative Anachronisms and wanted me to join because I owned a horse and his “kingdom” needed a jouster. I dumped him when he mandated that we only speak in the King’s English to each other.

–Anastasia

Aftermath: Last I heard, he thought he was a neo-romantic a la Bryan Ferry. At least he’s in this century now.