Page 5 of Man Hands
“Someone you’re not attracted to,” Sadie reminds me. “Becauseredflag.”
“Because my instincts are wrong,” Iagree.
“Totally wrong. And that’s okay. It’s fixable. But we’ll find someone who’s the exact opposite ofyourtype.”
“Explain your type again.” Ash says. “Let’s define theproblem.”
I squint my eyes, because everyone knows that makes you smarter. I didn’t know I had a type, but when I look back on my few exes over the years…yeah. There seems to be a pattern. “Frail looking. Vegetarian or gluten free. Intellectual. Ironic. Goodhygiene.”
Sadie and Ash just look at me for a beat. “Thank god we’re helping you,” Ash says. “I mean…what the fuck? Why didn’t we notice thisbefore?”
Sadie isnodding.
Ash says, “So we just need to find someone who’s huge, a carnivore,doesn’ttalk…”
“Smells manly and… What’s the opposite ofironic?”
“I have no idea. Let’s simplify it—we’re looking for amaninstead of what you’ve beenattractedto.”
“What have I beenattractedto?”
“Gwyneth Paltrow, I’m pretty sure. And every time I see her on TV, I just want tokickher.”
Sadie is still nodding. “It’s true. You have to move on from the sensitive pseudodudes. You need tofinda…”
“Cock,” they say at thesametime.
I can’t help but smile. I mean, come on. These two. Maybe they are my actofgod.
3TopTen
Brynn
Things I FeltWhile In My Marriage, And Why IWantedOut:
In the beginning we were filled with hope, then we were justtired.
We were married for seven years. He never remembered our anniversary, my phone number, or that I hate rawonions.
I wanted to have kids. He wanted ahamster.
My sex drive increased over the years. His libido shrunk. I found comfort in food and started my food blog. I gained weight. Sex was something we scheduled and he tended to as if fucking me was akin to cutting an ingrowntoenail.
He never fucked me. He scheduled time for us to “beintimate.”
I started to hate the way he chewed, how he smelled, how his eyebrows were overgrown, the way he said “pasta.”
I started to disappear and he didn’t evennotice.
I didn’t feel loved or cherished or wanted. I felt like I was a constantmistake.
When I looked in the mirror, I stopped being able to recognizemyself.
He had an uglypenis.
That last one might be a little mean. Still. It was sorta ugly. It had a big vein and it curved in a way that seemed like he was built to actively turn away from my g-spot. But really, the list doesn’t mean squat. The only truth that really mattersisthis:
I just didn’t love him anymore, and I didn’t even lovemyself.
