I thought I would benefit from trading attraction for kindness, but I was wrong. Staying with you has been a lose lose situation - for me. I imagine for you it was a huge win.

My life is a complicated pie chart and the small, unsatisfying slice that represents our time together has given me Cholera.

If the Dalai Lama had to date you even he would despise you. I am not the Dalai Lama so you can imagine the depth of my hatred.

I have sexual fantasies that you're just not satisfying. Like one where I'm a pizza delivery person and you're someone who knows what the fuck they're doing.

Initially I mistook your clear skin and neat hair for attractiveness. However, having seen you in situations where you were unable to control your presentation, such as karaoke, I have concluded that you busted.

You know when you're stuck doing boring household chores just furious you're not out following your dreams or living life. Well when I'm with you all I can think about is how much I'd rather be washing a spoon at 11pm.

Your personality is like someone melted Kris Jenner, Donald Trump's wig, some Adam Sandler DVDs, and Joe Rogan's podcast into a candle that you put in the toilet to cover up the smell of your endless poops.

I've always believed sex exists on a spectrum that can't be reduced to overly simplistic patriarchal measures like 'good' and 'bad'. But you changed my mind. You are bad at sex.

I'm on this dating app to find my 'partner in crime' but unfortunately you've already committed the greatest crime of all - not being attractive to me. And it's a life sentence.

I recently learned that I have the same hours in the day as Beyonce. How does she do so much? Her empire is truly expansive. All this to say that Beyonce wouldn't date you and neither will I.

There is some confusion between people saying they could or couldn't care less about someone. Do clear up any potential miscommunications, let me just say I care about you zero.

Having sex with you felt like it should be illegal. I don't know who violated who but I do know that I scrubbed the top layer of skin off my body just to feel clean again.

Don't worry. There are plenty of other fish in the sea... for me.

I'm too busy with work to keep seeing you. And I don't see that changing anytime soon unless you get more attractive and interesting.

I can't see you anymore. Really it's my fault, I should have bailed as soon as I saw the Live, Laugh, Love poster.

I'm gay or I'm not gay. Honestly It's kind of hard to tell anymore after the last few months together.

I've always considered myself a sapiosexual who prioritizes mental connections over physical attraction. But these last few weeks with you have taught me I'm just a regularsexual.

I'm genuinely really busy. But I also still find time for 3 daily naps. So it might just be you.

You should look for someone who actually enjoys your idiosyncrasies. But be prepared, it'll be a tough search, you'd have better luck finding Malaysia Airlines Flight 370.

There's no chemistry, but you're a nice person. Which is why I know you'll be ok with me using your Disney+ account for the foreseeable future.

I guess opposites don't attract.

I have a to-do list a mile long. And you're not on it.

You're right. I can't handle you at your worst. So I don't deserve you at your best.

I don't feel a physical connection, but it's mostly my fault. I just have unrealistic expectations about intimacy, relationships, and basic hygiene.

I just think we're two different people. Also I kind of agree with your coworkers, you shouldn't microwave tuna in a shared space.

I'm going to level with you. I do pretty much nothing all day, but somehow I never have time to do anything. Including date you.

I thought I would make the smart choice for once, and go for stability over excitement. And unsurprisingly, I miss the excitement. That's not your fault. But truthfully, the socks and sandals didn't help.

Often the cure for bad sex is a frank discussion about each of our sexual shortcomings. But not in this case! The problems are definitely all me! So I'm gonna work out my own issues by sleeping with a bunch of other people.

Don't feel bad. I also don't find Brad Pitt or Sofia Vergara attractive so it more to do with a lack of chemistry. But to be totally honest, given the chance, I probably would fuck both of them and not you. Do with that what you will.

Unfortunately this relationship can't coexist with a time where for some reason I need to watch 6 hours of TikTok a day.

You're very nice, and you will find that special someone for you. But, personally, I just can't be with someone who says whomst so much.

I don't think we're sexually compatible. It's fine you're vanilla. But I'm more Ben&Jerry's. Meaning I need there to be at least two other guys there.

I'm sorry, I didn't feel an attraction between us. But keep a look out for a text once you're in a happy relationship and therefore completely unattainable. I have a feeling I'll be attracted to you then.

I really need to focus on my improv right now. I haven't taken any classes or anything, but I just think it's really cool.

It was really fun having you explain the the cyclical time travel mechanics of Hot Tub Time Machine. But I'm not ready to move on from my last relationship yet, as it's only been 16 months in linear time.

I didn't feel a physical connection after our night together, and this is probably unrelated, but I somehow grew my virginity back.

If you're reading this, I have failed to stop the assassination of JFK. Thus I have blinked out of existence, save the occasional time mirage you'll see of me dating your friends. Keep your distance or risk a time-paradox.

In Virginia Woolf's seminal text, A Room of One's Own, the central thesis states that to achieve true liberation, women must own the tools of their financial independence. A room of one's own, as it were. With this in mind, I cannot go on.

Thanks for insisting on reading me your screenplay about time travelling zombies. Unfortunately I'm working on a similar script and am worried I'll steal your awesome ideas.

I'm going into the witness protection program. Unfollow me, for your own safety. And disregard any future tweets bragging about my hot new sex life. It's just the lonely FBI agent running a sexy cover story to fool the mafia.

Sun Tzu says one must know their enemy before they can master their own life. As such I must break off this relationship and begin an exhaustive search for Brad, my 3rd grade bully.

Work is soooo crazy right now and can barely think a day ahead let alone a week! I mean, I don't have a job yet, but I'm confident i'll get one soon.

I won't be able to text anymore. My parents are taking my phone privileges away because I voted for Biden.

I have a stomach bug so I can't see you anymore until this whole vomiting situation gets sorted. Might be a while though, it's a superbug.

Sorry if I looked disappointed last night. You were actually TOO attractive. Naturally this wrecked my self-confidence and I will need several months to recover. I wish you a prosperous life.

I just found out I have 42,000 unread emails and I can't focus on my love life until I get that down to at most 3 digits.

I'm sorry I ran off. I accidentally liked a thirst pic of my ex's new partner so naturally I'm going into hiding until the inevitable heat death of the universe.

I'm a spirit from a dimension without sexual pleasure. So in my world, of interdimensional virgin ghosts, last night was totally not embarrassing for you! Now I must return home to Zalgorg 6. Ignore my future Insta stories, they are just spooky ghost illusions.