One night she turned to me and said, “It’s not going to work out,” then bit me on the arm until I bled.

—Bill

Aftermath: I never saw her again. I guess I was fortunate to be dating a vampire with bad aim.

My boyfriend would regularly and gleefully make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for random homeless drug addicts but wouldn’t make me breakfast–or lunch or dinner for that matter–without a huge fight.

—Amy

Aftermath: Oddly, he would get angry with me if I made myself food and didn’t share it with him. We lasted a torturous two years.

I should have realized it was doomed when he couldn’t figure out a thermostat because it was too complicated.

—Anna

Aftermath: We dragged on another year, part of which was spent a half continent apart. If we’d stayed in the same house, we’d have split by Christmas.

A month before our five-year anniversary, he told me he couldn’t make love to me because I’d become so fat that he couldn’t stand looking at me naked. I gained about 11 lbs, or 5 kg. Four months before that, he weighted 275lbs (125kg), so I told him he was a hypocrite. He then apologized, but started sleeping with another woman whom he met on a World of Warcraft server.

—Maria

Aftermath: We lasted for another 15 days, tried to be friends for months but it always ended with him trying to sleep with me. Four months later, I met a guy who showed me what a loving relationship should look like.

He took me over to his house for the first time and when I sat on the bed there was kitty litter and cat hair all over it.

—Amelie

Aftermath: Three or four more dates. I ended it when he told me he was bi-sexual but was in love with me.