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I asked what it was she looked for in a man, and her answer was all of two qualifications... that he know how to work on a car and that he be financially secure. As I said... beautiful women confuse me. Her answer had nothing to do with her philosophical views, nothing to do with love. So, I wrote her a ten-page letter on my views of an ideal relationship and an ideal partner, all smothered in honest compliments of her personality in order to help her see something in herself. It touched her enough that she wanted to talk more on the subject, so we went out for a late supper after work that night. We had a nice talk, but I learned on her next day at work that it was forgotten as soon as she'd dropped me off at my apartment. She saw him later that night and had sex and more drugs. I was floored when she told me. Kari was the same way. She was attracted to her ex because he was muscular and somewhat handy around a garage. Over the few weeks I did see them together, he spared no opportunity to insult her. She had confided in me that every night he'd just lay in bed and ask, "Can we have sex? Can we have sex?" No passion or build-up. On the rare nights she did give in, she'd lay there and count how many strokes it would take inside her for him to orgasm... all of fifteen would usually do the trick. He had no concern for what she felt, showed no desire to satisfy her at all. Had he been in the house the last two weeks I was, he would have barked commands like, "Do my fuckin' laundry!" or "Get off your ass and make supper," and then complain about how bad the food was when she did. Again, I saw it over their last three weeks together. Yet, I gave nothing but support toward her actions (or lack thereof) and loved her with everything I had. I have no clue why she'd miss being knocked around, physically and mentally, as she had. |