She's a florist. Makes wedding arrangements. Loves fashion, gossip, clubbing. We've been together six months now. I'm masculine, and this silly bitch actually nauseates me a bit. I sometimes wonder if she thinks I'm her husband. And I sort of am. And I sort of hate it. Yikes. Never thought I'd say that. It's so ridiculous to see her in my backyard pretending to work on her Miata, considering she can't even drive a stick. I've never dated a dude like this before. It's like a science experiment sometimes. She just fulfills every single negative stereotype that people have against gay men.
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