Let's just get it out there, because I might accidentally reveal my “dating” history one day, and it might come out even more lame than reality.
First of all, I never said love to any of them. And second of all, I don't want to dismiss people on look, so let's just say they were slightly taller than me. I didn't think highly of their knowledge either.
The weirdest thing is, I always knew from day one there was something wrong with them. But I was so bored with life in general, I mistook the intellectual challenge for romantic interest. I then, mixed that with my desire to help people. So sometimes it felt very meaningful, I thought I liked them for real.
But as soon as my intellect caught up with the clinical textbook and had the exact name for their disorders (since the clinical definition is very broad and doesn’t explain the logic, just describes symptoms, those are not reliable, and in fact, garbage). I closed the textbook, forgot them in a day, and became super happy the next day. Turned out the previous miserable days were about a math I couldn't solve. Not about affection. As soon as I had all the evidence that it was the characters that were rotten, not the circumstances, I spent no time fixing them. Well, I do need evidence. Because luck is unreliable.
When I heard people talk about someone else who stayed in a relationship just for the sex (story from my sister's friend), I looked down on those people. But then, my turn, I stayed for the challenge, not exactly staying, but keeping them as acquaintances for some time. So I guess I wasn't better than those people.