this post was submitted on 17 Jun 2025
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So I recently found out my ex wife had a type. A type she desperately wanted me to fit into. A type that she would make me go to clothing stores for specific shirts that look good on pretty much no one but Henry Cavill.
I did not look like Henry Cavill. Turns out around the time we divorce she goes through this phase swooning over Henry Cavill. Then she cheats on me with a dude I don't know the name of (except I've unfortunately seen his dick) and low and behold he has this kind Henry Cavill build.
Fast forward several years to now. I lost about 100lbs. Started lifting. Getting swole cause it was fun now that my body was smaller. Ate more protein, added creatine. Drink lots of water. I need different shirts. I dig out some old shirts, the only ones that sort of fit well are the ones she got at clothing stores that look good on pretty much no one but Henry Cavill. Turns out they still don't look good on me, not because I'm not Henry Cavill, but I'm not a fuckboy.
This seems like it could be an interesting story, do you mind sharing?
For some... solidarity? Doesn't seem like the right word but whatever... I know the name of the guy my wife cheated on me with - he's our son's best friend's dad.
If you dig through my comment history I'm sure I've given the whole story in various bits and pieces with more details and less details.
Essentially we were young. I ignored so many red flags, started thinking with my weiner, she love bombed me, I did what she wanted, she cheated, we separated then tried to make it work, and I later found out she had either not ended the affair or kept it to sexting only and low and behold dick pics.
It's a sad story, but also a very good lesson to not listen to never stick your dick in crazy.