In every man's imagination of a perfect woman, which truly never exist, I found myself exceptional from every other woman. My trouble was I got excited about nothing and then married him. His words were special, he was kind, his eyes were beautiful, they were wild, crazy, like some animal peeking out of a forest on fire. He had the quality of masculine confidence, his looks left me cold, and as I went straight to my knees with his sexy charisma, I played that dangerous invitation to play with him. In spending my time with him, he became everything I wished for. And everything I saw I regretted, everything I witnessed was like a line filled with many zeros.
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