i had a girlfriend who hated me

thats poisonmaybe more. but her definately.

she would write me notes telling me she loved me but she was also a huge liar.

i could tell she hated me because she never complimented me. not even when we talked dirty.

usually when you talk dirty the girl will say stuff like omg get that monster out of your pants. kiss my neck. i love it when you kiss my neck.

she wasnt like that. she was all, keep your shirt on. are you seriously proud of that gut?

she once called me skinny fat because she said i looked skinny when i had clothes on but then fat when i was naked. i laughed.

when we had sex it was magical and as good as the best sex either of had ever had and that made her mad because she wanted to hate that part of me too but she couldnt.

it wasnt that i was doing anything differently with her than with all the other thousands of runway models who i’ve known

but sometimes two bodies just fit.

the question though is, is that enough?

i ask because ive also had girlfriends who truly loved me. who gave me gifts and smooches and played with my chest hair and told me never to change.

the devil would try to convince me that these women were boring and i should boot them out of my presence immediately, because they were insane, obvs.

and sometimes i would.

i’d feel bad but not really because how could i love someone who loved me so strongly, moreso than i even loved myself? and deep down what was there really to love except a marvelous collection of baseball cards, old strings of christmas lights and playboy magazines?

and thats how i met your mother.