You told me you wanted us to have a life together, so I let you move in with me. But every time I wanted to have sex, you would reject me. I bought thousands of dollars worth of lingerie, hired escorts, and still you didn't want to be with me. You made me feel so ugly, even though I know I am very attractive.

I began to notice a lot of my lingerie missing, and I started finding womens' undergarments in your car. You would swear you were not screwing around on me, and I knew you were telling the truth--so I put two and two together, and figured out it was YOU dressing up in the lingerie. But I loved you so much, I lived with it.

You ran our phone bill up to $800 in one month, just by calling those 1-900-Lick-Me numbers. And every time you rejected my sexual advances, I would catch you in the garage jacking off and looking at one of your millions of stashed porno mags.

The last straw was when you came home one day and told me you sucked a guy's you-know-what at a triple-X movie theater. You acted like you were proud of it. I stayed with you six years, and you gave me sex maybe four times. I guess if I were a man, it would have been different.

--Anonymous