"I dated a meth addict once. I didn’t find out until eight months into the relationship, so I tried to stick it out. After he got clean, we took a trip to San Francisco so we could ‘start over.’ The first morning there, he woke up early and said he was going to get some breakfast. Then he took all my money, and all my credit cards, and disappeared for two days. When I finally found him, he was getting blown by some dude in an adult theater, so I backhanded him in the face and knocked out a couple of teeth. The entire flight back, he wrote me apology notes on airplane napkins. Which I still have, by the way, to remind me never to date a meth addict."