everything looks better from further away. cities, pores, relationships. things and people are so much easier to appreciate when you don’t have to walk the trash-lined sidewalks, take close-up selfies, or find their flaws.

maybe that’s why i can’t seem to keep a boyfriend around for too long. my friends call me a “serial dater.” i guess that’s a nicer label than “deathly afraid of commitment.” or something like that. but i can’t help it when people just don’t live up to my expectations.

take matt. beautiful, blonde, matthew. i usually don’t swing for blondes, but something about his hair combined with that killer jawline made me bat for a home run. there was nothing to complain about in bed, either. a perfect little package, wrapped nicely in designer labels and smooth cologne. that was until i learned 4 months in that he only brushed his teeth every other day. sometimes every two days. and even when he did brush, it was only once a day, at night. my mouth refused to go anywhere near his after i found out about that little tidbit.

you think i’m too picky? maybe you should give your dentist a visit. but fine. let’s take a look at raoul.

god, he’d been one sexy hunk. i couldn’t tear my eyes away once they’d landed on him in that dingy, little bar. seemed he felt the same way, because we had some of the most spine-tingling sex i’d ever experienced that night. i still feel a little flutter when i think about it sometimes. and ladies, he was an absolute gentleman. always held the door, made dinners that could’ve come from 4 star restaurants—the whole package.

we were together 5 months until he kindly divulged that one of his hobbies was hunting. deer, mostly. the occasional woodland animal, nothing of the endangered type. the dealbreaker was that he saved all the eyeballs of his kills and preserved them in glass jars. every. single. one. i never went back.