This just hit me this morning. Every relationship I've ever had has been based on my fetish. I'm talking about seeking a woman who meets my fetish first, personality second. This since my teens, I see. And I fapped all through them on the side. Looking at girls on the web. I love girls, you see. I'm a musician. My marriage broke up for a lot of reasons, but a big one was that I met another woman who met that fetish better than my wife could and pursued me on Facebook. I resisted as long as I could, politely turning down offers of "a drink." But then I caved, and I fell hard for her. This was at the end of my marriage, which I wanted to get out of for at least three years before I actually left. It was a disaster in many ways with many tender moments and adventures in between with the woman I left my wife for, and I'm still recovering, including moving 1,800 miles away to put distance between us. Still, we hung on for 7 years. Mostly because she would keep texting me photos of herself in skimpy clothing, or a bikini. It finally ended a month ago when she said the apartment upstairs was again available for rent, and did I want it? I actually thought about it seriously "Yeah, I'll move into that apartment where I had to call the cops on her - TWICE." Then, during a phone conversation about it, she mentioned my dick and the way it's shaped. I knew it wouldn't work, and I turned down the apartment, and she got angry and that was that. She still has my Fender Twin Reverb amp. I'll get that next time I'm in NY. Maybe bring a friend. Geez, this thing is way deeper than "I am addicted to looking at pics and videos of women on the net, and jerking off 2-3 times a day to the point where I've got no dick for whatever partner I meet." Thanks for listening.