You told me my legs were too fat for thigh high tights.

You asked me to whisper tales of you fucking other women as you thrust yourself into me.

You told me I looked like a preteen boy.

You asked me to watch you jerk off to a three ring orgy of lesbian porn.

You told me you’re so lucky I’m “just” a six out of ten because I won’t burn your house down.

You asked me to stop having sex with you after eighteen months to make Jesus happy.

You lied to your chiropractor about if I had a degree.

You told me all I wanted to do was be useless, barefoot, and pregnant.

You asked me if I was jealous when my rapist got a girlfriend.

You told your family everything awful about my childhood and they threw it in my face.

You hid me from your friends and got embarrassed when they found out about me.

You told me that getting a tattoo would make me less attractive to you.

You dropped me when they mocked you for wanting me.

You told me that I was getting fat and you were so happy when my meds made me underweight.

You asked me if you could fuck other women while I stayed exclusive to just you.

You told me I looked like a man when you were hitting it from the back.

You asked me when I was opening an onlyfans because I was such a good dommy mommy.

You told me not to share my nudes because that’d be like opening an onlyfans.

You asked me what I would do if no one would love me like you did.

You said one hundred years ago I couldn’t have left you.

But I did.