Because I haven't cut myself in half yet.
No wait.
Because I have standards.
Really. There's something about having one body builder boyfriend toss me around the room a few times because I dared to bug him about cleaning out his cat box - he was torturing his cat by keeping him locked in a carrier for peeing on his bed, and the cat box hadn't been cleaned in at least a week or two (he later scoffed when I told him he assaulted me - it wasn't assault in his mind because he never hit me
), another pulling a knife because I dared to go to the park with friends against his wishes (I managed to teach this one that pulling a knife on me should have included stabbing me - he ended up more afraid of me than I was of him), another that got way too clingy while still being married yet estranged with his third wife, another requiring me to tell him I loved him or he would go off with another girl he just met, and another that griped about how I cut my f***ing meat and wouldn't answer the phone when the caller ID said it was a telemarketer.
I win at the jackass lottery.
Oh, and then there's the one guy I was considering as a boyfriend until we had our first date, and first night of sex, follow by a marriage proposal so that he could cover me on his insurance. I also met one of his alter personalities (as in, full-on multiple personality disorder). WTF, man?