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Last week, I had a pang of insecurity thinking about you doing sex work. I got into my head about it, and for the first time since we started dating, felt threatened by it. You could have been annoyed or frustrated, but instead you made room for my moment of insecurity. You let me talk my way out of it and reassured me, and suddenly I felt like hot shit again, like your bf and capital “D” Daddy and future husband. We fucked three times in a row and now you are sitting across from me reading me sexts by weird horny men who want to send you pictures of them sucking on a dildo, and all I can think is, “I can’t wait until you’re wife.”