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Diego, Diego, Diego

What a narcissistic punk, don’t you think? It’s always about Diego. The emotions and practices of Crystal meant nothing much to him. Only his emotions about the facts. If he felt something was terrible, he’d tell her outright, even though she already knew it and decided to be the grown-up and just deal with shit.

Crystal was a fan of grin-and-bear-it. Life had plenty of obligations, such as cleaning up after others who were far less tidy than herself. It’s not even like she has the grace of a swan. No, this woman routinely spilled food on herself while eating… not to mention the floor while cooking. She just spent extra effort to clean it up. And then those around her who could not be assed to keep it tidy, well, she cleaned up after them, too.

Diego was no different. He wanted her attention all the time, around the clock even. Every waking moment was fixated on his blonde bombshell of a woman, never giving her any space to think. If he did that, she might figure out she didn’t want to be anywhere near him ever again. He couldn’t have that. Even though he himself couldn’t figure out if he wanted to be with her.

He expressed his doubts to her more than once, hurting her feelings. He had no idea what his bullshit weighed. He had no idea how he impacted her psyche. He didn’t give a shit about anything other than his dick being wet. Once that was over, he never really spared her a moment for herself. He took up every ounce of her energy, sucking her soul dry.

Oh wait, that’s Ben. Psycho Boy Ben, to be precise. He’d express how he wasn’t sure he wanted to be with her, implying she was inferior in quality, that there were better fish in the sea and his catch of the day wasn’t sufficient. Forget that she’s the motherfucking messiah. She wasn’t good enough for him and never will be. Why? Because she’s fat.

Ain’t that some shit, ladies? The stupid motherfucker treated her like a substandard citizen of the world because she was fat. The minute she started to lose weight, though? Oh ho ho! He would try to monopolize her in public, his disdain clear on his face after catching clerk after clerk ogling the woman who would have been his wife once upon a time, if he’d only asked her instead of telling her she was not enough.

That’s what you’re doing, ‘gentlemen’ of the world. You are showing your doubts when you stare at the bits and bobbles of other women. You are telling your lady they aren’t enough. You do it in subtle snide remarks, too, and in your actions. “If it ain’t love, it’s hate!”

Diego hated his woman. But how? you might cry! He objectified her, ignoring the fact that she had thoughts and emotions all her own that were perfectly valid and quite different from his own. He never gave her the space she needed. He never gave her anything she needed. Or wanted, for that matter, except a fucking timeshare he’s going to try to lord over her head now that they’re divorced, for lack of a better term. Boy was it an ugly divorce, too.

A crockpot died during that divorce.

And so did Crystal and her cats.

The moral of the story? Stop treating your woman like shit already. You’re projecting your insanity upon her and then blaming her for the outcome.

Go fuck yourself, ‘gentleman.’

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