What they don’t tell you

It’s all about love, isn’t it? Isn’t that way they tell all of us when we’re little girls? They drive home again and again all of the fairy tales, all of the myths about true love. They tell us that if you’re pretty and you’re good – but don’t forget pretty – that there is someone out there especially for you. That you will meet a man who will fulfill your every need and take you away on his white charger and you will live happily ever after. I don’t even know what happily ever after means. I mean, I’m not against it. If you feel like you have a romance with swelling music and soft screens more power to you. If pretty flowers and boxes of chocolates bring you to your knees, please, by all means have yourself a ball.

But when they’re telling you those lies when you’re little girl they don’t tell you about breasts that are aching to be touched, they don’t tell you about your vagina desperate to be filled. They don’t tell you that sometimes you get married and you wake up one day and you might have a husband but you don’t have a man. On those cold and lonely mornings you can stay in your bed curled up in the fetal position or you can pick yourself up and go do something about it.

I chose the latter. I took my life into my own hands and made some hard decisions. Now the time has come for you to do your part. I need a stiff dick and a bad attitude. I need someone to come along and tell me the things that I don’t think I want to hear…but I do. I need someone to grab me by the hair and make me do the things my husband is too timid to make me do. That’s you cue. Call…

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