See, Marge, I could tell you truthfully that I've been in a loving relationship for five and a half years with, let's call him, Mr. Horse. Mr. Horse is extremely kind, gentle, and respectful, and I adore those qualities in him. He has never raised a hand to me in anger; he doesn't feel the need to blackmail me; and likewise, I don't hit him or blackmail him. Indeed, I would go so far as to say he's never gonna give me up, never gonna let me down, never gonna run around and hurt me. He is extremely hardworking -- indeed, he is asleep already because of an exhausting shift today. I love that about him also. He's been working double shifts to buy Christmas presents for my sister's kids, whom we will be seeing this week. He reads to them and watches movies with them, although they are another man's offspring (another woman's, at that, though my sister and I share most of our genetic material) and he gains no evolutionary advantage from doing so. O Herne, I adore him for all of this.
But you would just say I'm a liar. Either Mr. Horse doesn't exist, or I don't really respect him, or one of us is a cheater, or you'd find some way to invalidate my opinion because you don't want to hear such things are possible. Even though
@Null knows my real name, and could go to my Facebook and verify that the man exists, etc. you still wouldn't take his opinion because you'd say he's been brainwashed by feminists, blah blah blah. You'd rather cling to your objectively horrible beliefs so you don't have to believe that any fault exists in you. Our faults, dear Alexius, are not in our stars, but in ourselves.
PS. We met on a dating site.
