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When I first began dating my husband I knew he was special.  He was not only a gentleman but he was very endearing. He was always very patient and easygoing. He was good to both his and my family.  My family loved him (a bit too much I later found out, other stories to follow).I have to admit that I have always been a handful (very emotional, quick temperament) but things were just easy with him. We never fought which was a nice change from previous relationships. He was good for me, he had a very calming effect on me. He knew how to handle my temperament.Although he came from a middle-class family he had his shit together; he was educated, owned a sports car, had a house, a great job, and always had pocket money.As for myself, I had a terrible history with men before I met my future husband. I was very feisty and volatile so relationships were always short-lived. I had cheated on pretty much all my past boyfriends. I was different than all the other girls: I never wanted to get married. I had a history of poor experiences with boys/men. How I lost my virginity, how I was used and manipulated in my early years. It all took a toll ısparta escort on me and I never wanted to rely on, depend on, or even trust men. I didn’t need a husband. I was fiercely independent.When dating my husband I treated him the same as past boyfriends. Although he was good for me, I just couldn’t let go of past behavior.  Because he was always so cool and calm, I intentionally did or said things in order to provoke a fight. I was constantly trying to get a reaction out of him, but he never took the bait. It sounds crazy, but I was scared that things were too good – does that make any sense?He traveled on business and left me to my own vices. I found myself bored and tempted when he was away.  I had never dated a guy that traveled on business before, but I adapted well and began to live a secret life when he was out of town. I enjoyed our frequent short breaks. I began cheating with old boyfriends and even the occasional one-nighters when he wasn’t around.He often joked that he knew there was a long list of men just waiting for him to mess up. He had no idea that some of hakkari escort those men cut the line and were only waiting for his next business trip.There were a few times when he suspected something but I was always elusive and careful to never admit to anything. It was like I was testing him, seeing how much he would put up with, seeing how far I could push him,  how much I could get away with. Sometimes I think I was trying to destroy the relationship.  I had a dark side to me that I hid very well. Subconsciously I felt I didn’t deserve him. The more I was drawn to him the more I rebelled.  I was scared. Things were getting serious and I was terrified of commitment.The night he proposed to me was a complete train wreck. To say that I did not handle it very well is a huge understatement.We had been dating for almost two years when he took me to a nice restaurant and ordered champagne with our meal. We were supposedly celebrating a job promotion, I had no idea he was planning to propose.  It was a complete surprise when he asked me to marry him as it had never come up in conversation bingöl escort before. I was shocked and couldn’t give him an answer. I suppose any answer other than “yes” means “no”.  Shock quickly turned to anger for ambushing me like that (I told you I was temperamental). I had repeatedly told him that I never wanted to marry and here he was with a ring in hand.I completely lost it and began scolding him. I suppose I was making quite the scene in the restaurant. I could see in his eyes my reaction caught him off guard. I know when I am behaving badly but it’s something that I can’t control. It just happens and runs its ugly course.He stayed calm and wanted to go back to his place and discuss it, but I refused to go.  I had a few too many drinks and continued to behave badly…very badly.  He calmly got up from the table and left the restaurant, hoping that I would come to my senses and meet him back at his place which was a short walk away.  Instead, I moved to the bar area and continued to drink.  I was beside myself…Oh, fuck, what just happened?It wasn’t long before I was carrying on with a few guys. The drinks flowed and I was acting promiscuously. Before the night was over I was having sex with a stranger in the back seat of his car.  I didn’t get his name and I couldn’t even remember what he looked like. I didn’t care to be honest. I do remember flirting with him in the bar and then being drunkenly escorted to his car in the parking lot.

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