Look at me dating
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He was hard of hearing, though he wouldn’t admit it, and he talked exceptionally loud.I could ask him if he’d already taken out the garbage for him to say, “yes,” and then I’d hear him rolling the bin to the curb ten minutes later. I fell in love with him in the way only reserved for those trying to escape pain: stupidly, recklessly.When people of Simon’s acquaintance met me and were wowed by my looks, I blushed in enjoyment. I was a novelty, a person of curiosity, with more than one of his friends asking, in a not so discrete manner: “Why are you with HIM? Even though I was legally separated and no longer sharing a home with my husband, dating before I was officially divorced was considered adultery in the state of Tennessee.I often hid behind my glasses, slinging my hair over my face in a concerted effort to keep any attention off of me.Before the man that’d become my husband, I’d mostly dated fellow intellectuals: men with glasses, rail-thin or chubby, men who never went to the gym or gave much thought to their own personal appearance.
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It was a look I can only describe as of pity or confusion, because what else could it be for someone to look at us: a beautiful young woman dating an ugly old man. Having been neglected in my marriage by a man I’d been with for ten years meant I had very little sense of my place in the world of men now that I was “single.” I didn’t feel attractive or desirable and had been oblivious to any male attention while I’d been faithfully married.