I’m kind of a casual dating savant, and I know when I dig someone’s swagger. For this reason, I’ve always said I would never date a boy who thought a shark with bears for arms would triumph in a battle against a bear with sharks for arms. We just wouldn’t have chemistry.

I also wouldn’t date a boy who drinks Blue Moon or doesn’t think it’s hilarious that “beer can” in a British accent sounds exactly like “bacon” in a Jamaican accent. These reasons sound ridiculous, I know.

I’m admitting this because a reader recently questioned whether he was bailing out of relationships for legitimate reasons. He confessed that he “let drop at least the last year's worth of wonderful women due to insufficient kissing.”

Well, Reader, good news: Science validates your life decisions! A 2007 study conducted at the University of Albany says it’s time to move on when someone sucks your face like a vacuum (unless you’re into it). You don’t have chemistry.

But what happens when you do have chemistry? What should we do when it isn’t working with someone who sends shivers down our spine with just a whisper? I think it’s a natural instinct to try to claw your way to a solution (you’re moving to Yemen? Let’s talk flights). Dignity is for chumps.

But the reality is that sometimes we hurt the people we care for. Early ’90s boybands were lying when they taught us that acing chemistry meant that calculus would be a breeze (U + Me = Us). Compatibility isn’t always enough.

A dude recently broke up with me because he couldn’t make his problem getting over his ex an ex-problem. I’m sure this guy really did like me. Why wouldn’t he? We had sexy-fun time and morning cuddles, and our favorite sports teams were rivals.

We had a connection. But it wasn’t enough. He still needed time to wear all black and write slam-poetry at the local coffee shop (or whatever it is guys do to get over exes). We would never work.

A boy once told me he wanted to put a ring on it. At the time, I thought he was only a play pal. I wanted him to pull my hair and grind me like a cutlet, not whisper sweet nothings in my ear under the moonlight. I later realized that this was a mistake.

I was afraid of losing my freedom, so I saw our relationship as a gilded cage. I loved him back, but it was more complicated than chemistry. We would never work.

So readers, instead of simply shrugging and saying, ‘We weren't compatible, anyway,’ let’s try to figure out the real reasons why a relationship didn’t work (it probably isn’t because he listens to Nickelback or doesn’t think stackable wine revolutionized convenience drinking).

What are some of the dumbest reasons you stopped seeing someone? Were they legit? Email me at caroline@sfreporter.com.