I've told a few people throughout the last year that I really wanted to write an exposé on my dating experiences, each story, guy specific. 
I did the research to figure out the different kinds of guys I have dated and grouped them into categories. 
NO real names are used, but about 98% of the details in these stories are true, did happen, and do represent the men I have dated in the past two years (casual and serious).

but most importantly, here's a snippet from one of the chapters!!!:

I think out of all of them, this next guy was my favorite heartbreak. No one has ever made me feel so much before. Not all good feelings but nonetheless, he brought them all out of me.
There are always those guys who you look at and think, “No way would he ever be into me.” This was one of those guys. Innocent comments on Facebook posts turned into messaging which turned into making appearances at work for eahchother, and then before I knew it, we had made Wine Wednesday a routine. It was hard not to fall for someone who was older, hotter and, I thought, had his life together. Everything with Dakota was a whirlwind. We jumped into everything so fast but it was the most comfortable relationship I had been in all year. There was just something about the way he was and the way we were together.
I really struggle to talk about this one because not only did it lead to a decline in a relationship that I really wanted but it also revealed the sad decline of someone I cared about as well. I walked away from the situation with issues that would stay with me for too long.
In the beginning, he told me about his past, that drinking had always lead to bad things for him and which is why he was no longer drinking every weekend and partying like he had done before. He tells me this while drunk, in my bed the first night we hung out. He claimed he didn’t mean to drink that much and to cut him off. Despite my best efforts, he successfully finished a bottle and a half of chardonnay on his own that night.
Weird or not, I’m not huge on kids and babies. I’m just not into that whole thing yet. I am however, into fostering and fixing a broken boy. He was the first that I had ever known to have so much happen to him in his life. It was almost transfixing to see somebody so complex and changed because I had gotten so used to these 2-dimensional frat stars who didn’t know the difference between “two” and “to.”
Dakota had been through it all and through all the talk, I fell for the joke that he was healed and turning his life around. By week three, he was asking if I knew anyone who could get him five xanax and five adderalls at 11 on a Wednesday night. From there, it all seemed to go downhill. He was constantly high on bars, addys, marijuana, and god knows what else. When he wasn’t drinking and getting high, he was chewing tobacco. Usually, all of these things are enough to turn me away, running for the hills but it didn’t with him and that’s what scared me. I regret not having the power to walk away from such an unhealthy situation.
At some point, I fell into his trance. He wasn’t treating me the way he should have and we fought more than we didn’t. Despite being aware of all of this, I still wanted to make it work. I was so focused on keeping him that I ignored all the warning signs.
We were spontaneous and played one-on-one basketball games at 1 am and got quesadillas at a food truck downtown at midnight. It was the little things; I was so satisfied just sitting with him in the library doing homework, the way he kissed my forehead that made me feel secure. He sincerely wanted to take care of me and I needed his strength amidst everything that was going on around me at the time.
I honestly couldn’t tell you when or how he started blowing me off but, the point is, he did. He started going downtown three or four days a week and getting hammered. Between that and his new housemates’ constant partying, I watched someone who was trying to get his life back, turn into the exact person he said he’d never be again, five weeks earlier. As you could imagine, the letdowns eventually got old.
Our “relationship” (I always use this term loosely) pushed my stress and anxiety levels past their limits. Simultaneously of course, other things in my life were falling apart. All things combined, broke me. It took me a while to recover from that one. Worst of all though, we worked together, before and after everything. As immature and awful as it may sound, I’ve never wanted to see someone screw up and get fired so much in my life. It took less than a month for him to lose his job. I don’t remember my immediate reaction but I figured it looked something like me dancing around and celebrating with my roommate. What I didn’t expect was that I would’ve still liked to see him around work. There was something about the pain he inflicted that I was addicted to. I got used to him leaving and the constant insecurity I felt. For some reason, I was afraid that I wouldn’t find someone like him again. We ended things by talking at the basketball court in my apartment complex one very cold night. He tried to hold me to keep me warm but all I could think about was the blanket I had gotten him, in a bag at my feet, and how nice it would be to wrap it around myself. He had moved into a new place and I went out of my way to get him the softest blanket I could find at TJ Maxx and spritz it with my perfume. I was too comforting.
I was too busy looking out for him to look out for myself. I let the stress of our relationship keep me from eating, sleeping, and keeping in gallons of tears. After everything had ended, he would still pick me up to go to the library late at night. His arm around me as he worked on an assignment that was undeniably late. Per usual, he was hopped up on an upper that he had tracked down through one of the many drug dealers in the city.
To this day, over a year later, I am still in contact with him. There’s no reason for me to keep in touch but it’s exciting for some odd reason. He made me an addict, an addict to the pain that I so desperately try to avoid with everyone else.  
So keep in mind this is very very raw and also very real. If you know me well enough, you may be able to figure out who this is. That's why it's fun.
Not trying to put bitch vibes out into the universe with this but I find it entertaining and lately, I have been inspired to continue with the project.
I have to do something with my Creative Writing Certificate I'm paying 35 extra bucks for right?

leave me comments, suggestions, hate, whatever, I'll take it all!