I attract the wrong men, or they’re attracted to me. Is there such a thing anyhow, as ‘wrong men’?
I’ve been married three times, all three of my husbands were projecting their shortcomings on me. No thanks, I have my own. Flaws, I mean.
Three times a mismatch. Now I’m tired of being corrected, crushed, tired of a condescending approach. As if they can only be up if someone else is down.
I dream of someone next to me.
Oh, I loved them alright. Still, I’m finished with this business. My whole life I believed women were manipulating. But it’s a myth. None of my female friends is.
Instead, three men were trying to control me in every possible way.
The trouble is; I’m heterosexual. I adore men. Fascinating creatures.
I would have loved to have children. Maybe it’s better I don’t. This way they, my men, cannot run me over, cannot blackmail me into a relationship. I am free to go when I can’t manage to stay anymore.
I just don’t think I’m fit to be alone. That’s a problem.

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