My earliest Valentine's Day memory is watching a grocery store balloon my dad bought me twisting up and up into the sky. I'd been so excited that I let go of the string. When I realized my mistake, I began bawling. My dad realized he should've sprung for a second balloon. On the subway ride home from the worst date of my life, I thought fondly of that balloon. Had it biodegraded in some distant part of the world yet? If it hadn't, would I still be single when it did? more

Last year, my friend convinced me to sign up for a dating site that she called "the most painless one out there." I order everything from pizza to eye cream on the Internet, but I was still embarrassed about shopping online for a boyfriend. Women with classic features and virtually zero childhood trauma shouldn't need a website to meet men who are lying about their height. more

SOME RELATIONSHIPS START with fireworks. Ours ended with them. Well, it would have, if my boyfriend John hadn’t called to dump me the morning of July 4 less than an hour before we were supposed to meet at Penn Station and head to his parents’ house on Long Island, where booze, boats and barbecue awaited. more

A FEW DATES into what would become our relationship, I determined that the look John gave me was a sort of hungry admiration. Not that he ever let himself get too hungry.The guy had never met a cheese plate he didnt like. Wed sit across from each other at restaurant tables covered in rich foods, always with at least one appetizer that he ate most of. more

We’d be having dinner or eyeing each other over the tops of our drinks. “I want you to know I’m not with you right now because you’re 22,” he’d say, pausing for emphasis as if trying to embody his full age, the years between us. “I’m with you because you’re a beautiful woman.” “Thanks,” I thought. “But I’m with you, because you’re a DILF.” Still, I nodded and silently counted the minutes until he&r more