The one you used with me worked so good. I surely had my defenses down while listening to your blue eyes.

I believed your insecurity based on not being physically the same as the porn actors or the Mr. Universe that circulate through the online world. That constant return to your past of unaccepted physique. That prevailing need to stand out in the environment of normative canons. I thought you didn’t love yourself enough even though we could all see the goal achieved because you incarnated the ultimate desired norm. No one could deny it. 1.85m, angel face, firefighter body, radio voice and studying to be an engineer.

I even thought that I was physically your type when your exes were cut by the same pattern and although I could find myself within that established canon, I objectively did not reach your levels of Renaissance beauty.

The designer and the nurse did not believe you. You tried to sell them (the first one was overweight, and  the second one, well below the average height) this same story and they did not buy it…. They were not dazzled by the packaging. They, who did not enter into the current normative rule, knew how to recognize both you and that story that I did buy and that was blank. That story you used to swell your list of credible victims. That story as fake as your modesty.

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