Beauty can be a curse

Spectacularly beautiful. Preternaturally so. Her pictures (on Happn) were improbable. I just went to Google and searched for “beautiful brunette headshot model” and, in the first ten pages, not one was as pretty as her.

It simply couldn’t be the case that she had swiped me. (Well, you don’t actually swipe on Happn, but whatever.)

This isn’t because I lack self-esteem, or think myself unattractive. It’s because the pictures were of a woman who lives in a different universe than mine, a universe of women dressed in tiny black dresses, men who uniformly have six-packs, and everyone is between the ages of 23 and, say, 28. These people work in retail, or in the theater, and spend their nights at clubs. I knew – knew – that she and I belong in different universes.

She lacked compliance. She’d give little bits, but she’d overpromise and then disappear. Her nonchalance was offputting. The truth is, had she been even a tiny bit less insanely pretty, I wouldn’t have tolerated her poor behavior. But I plunged on forward, seduced by her beauty.

Suffice it to say, this was an error…. Maybe one day I’ll tell you about it.

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