My Fatal Flaws

Immediately following the publication of my most recent blog essay She Just Isn’t That Into You Man I received two emails.

Both emails mentioned how pathetic they thought I was. Pathetic? Ok, maybe I am. I realize that my current partner does not care about me as much as anyone who says I love you should, but that is ok. I love her. I think. I enjoy our life together. I think she is a cool person, she takes care of me in many ways and she is great in bed (I wish you could see her nude).

I realize she does not care about me that much (not as much as I would like), but you can not expect that much from people who are as hot as she is. So I am making the choice to stay with her. And maybe that is what makes me a bit pathetic but I think it is worth it. For now.

Both emails also showed curiosity about what my fatal flaws were. They criticized me for not sharing my fatal flaws in my last blog essay. One of the emails asked me if my wife was to leave me for another man what would my fatal flaws be that would give the other man the advantage over me?

These are what I think my fatal flaws are:

My hair is going grey.

I am introverted.

I don’t like 98% of people.

I don’t have that much money. I am not really motivated by making money. I hate doing something just for the money. It depresses me.

I don’t like my job. I do not think I have ever liked a job that I have done for money. But working as a Psychologist is just not my thing. It was the wrong career choice for me and I am often depressed about this.

I complain a lot about how I am unhappy working as a Psychologist.

I am often depressed or anxious.

I am a misogynistic pervert.

I prefer being pleased and am not that interested in giving pleasure.

 

I am not a very happy, easy going person. I am intense and require a lot of maintenance.

I had testicular cancer and now I only have one ball. This deforms me in some strange and unspoken way. Maybe it makes me less of a man.

I don’t want to have sex that much and when I do want to have sex I want my wife to do all the work. She doesn’t seem to mind so neither do I. I don’t even want to have to get up to do it doggy style. I know. Not good.

I feel like a failure. Like I have not succeeded at what I set out to do, which is to write novels and be an artist. But who makes a living doing this? I could. But I haven’t yet. And this often makes me feel sorry for myself. What kind of woman is attracted to a man who is anxious and feeling sorry for himself.

My parents are fucked up. Mentally ill. Both mom and dad. Not a good look for me even though they are rich. Money hides everything in America.

I am a neat freak and controlling to some extent.

I often get upset.

I am often pissed off and moody.

I am 47 and often tired (except when caffeinated).

My hair is thinning.

I am not a young rockstar.

Oh, I have a lot of debt. I don’t really pay many of my bills. I try and get away from as many of them as I can. What bills do get paid are paid by my wife. I don’t like dealing with money. I am not financially responsible.

So this is enough. These are aspects of myself that I would call my fatal flaws. I am anxious, often depressed, easily angered, moody, financially irresponsible, unhappy in my chosen career, tired, low energy, not very sexually energized, not easy going, hair thinning and I am becoming a stoner.

Did I miss anything? Who cares.

 

 

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