He doesn’t fight fair, perhaps because he’s ridiculously insecure.

Just finished reading your book, and enjoyed it for its snarky goodness. I found a combination of sections interesting, as I recently separated from my husband of about 14 years, and then poured myself right into a relationship with another man––the day I moved out. Not my brightest moment, but I thankfully recognized warning signs before getting in too deep.

It all started very well. He was a gentleman, took me out to dinner, opened doors for me, and treated me really well in lots of other ways. We played music together and had a lot in common, but I wanted to take things slow because I felt rather gun-shy after a messy marriage. Mostly he respected that, until it seemed like he didn’t. One day we broke into an argument about something completely trivial, and he bombed me with a whole crap load of things he seemed to have been saving up since we’d begun seeing each other. It was as if he had kept tallies of all the little “transgressions” of my character every day in order to sock me with them during a moment of anger. He proceeded to shred my character, and, being upset, I left the room to cool off. We resolved the argument that night, only to have a couple more of similar instances resurface. When he sensed that I was ready to break it off, he told me that I couldn’t handle the truth about myself and had to go off and pout when we had a disagreement.

Several other red flags: At one point he said to me, “I prefer women with small breasts,” as he looked at my well-endowed chest. He talked about how much he enjoyed intimacy, only to regularly act uninterested whenever I wanted to be close. This guy complained about being overweight, then would sit in front of the TV all day eating. Duh. Even worse, he recently had heart surgery and complained about how his legs hurt from the lack of circulation, but couldn’t be bothered to walk for a few minutes every day, according to the doctor’s instructions, to make it better. “It hurts,” he would say. One of the final straws was his constant complaint of how “so many women hurt him,” (ie: he was cheated on by a couple of ladies, as though he was the first to ever experience that) so he was anxious about getting close. Hmm. I’ve had men hurting me my whole life, and still find it possible to be loving and generous with myself. Needless to say, I gave him the boot. Whew. Catastrophe avoided, and I am happily single.

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