– You are very predictable and pedestrian, why am I even talking to you? – Jim was furious. He was always furious around me. I made him extremely angry all the time; angry and horny. I kept telling him we are incompatible, and we should break up, but he never listened.
– I do not know why you are still with me, maybe you like the way I f*ck?
– Hell no, sex with you is mediocre.
– I have no idea than, – I shrugged my shoulders, – You can always leave.
– If I leave now, you will never see me again, is this what you want?
He was right I am very average.
I kill 8 hours of my day in the office, work out several times a week to keep my butt firm and round, drink water to reduce the appetite, and am quiet to look smart.
I love money, chocolate, and flirting with my dentist.
I hate Mondays and crave for Friday evenings 6 days a week.
I routinely pay my bills, desperately fight my age, and love guys who take care of my needs.
I bleach my teeth, dream of a long vacation in Italy, and smell glossy pages of fashion magazines in beauty salons.
I have two hands, two legs, one head, one pussy, money anxiety, and retinol creams on my nightstand.
I am boringly predictable, worldly, and dispickably non-special. I am just an average-looking girl focused on raising the kid and cutting back on carbs, sugar, and salt.
I am an average person having happy moments and issues like everyone else, not trying to lie to myself about extraordinary abilities, special skills, ever-lasting youth, and other crap.
I just live my life aching from push-ups, watching sunsets, and growing roses neither bragging nor complaining about my mediocrity.
– You love me Jim, – he dragged his gaze away from stocks trackers in his iPhone, tired and crestfallen.
– Now what?
– You love me because I am very average.