I didn't break up with you because of the reasons I stated. I was just too embarrassed to tell you the truth, so I made up some stupid reason and stuck with it. I wanted to tell you, but I know how petty I would sound: You are completely obsessed with your fucking dog. You treat him like a spoiled child, and having to compete for your attention was something I couldn't continue. When he would jump all over me, you'd just laugh and say, "He likes you!" You let him sleep in between us, and I felt like I was cuddling a smelly dog all night. He ruled your world, not me. He got undivided attention, not me. How could I say I'm breaking up with you because I felt inferior to your dog? How would that make me look? The last straw was when you made ME sit in the backseat while your dog rode shotgun. That was just too humiliating, and that's when I decided to break up with you. I'll never forget that lady's face as we drove by with your dog's silhouette in the passenger seat and my sorry ass in the back... I could tell she knew my pain.—Anonymous