just when I'm about to compliment you...

You blow it by being a pig.
Just when I'm about to express how proud I am of you for being faithful and not a disgusting member of the male gender, you show your g'damn true colors and prove that you have a wandering eye, too. How disappointing.
On the other side of the coin, though, it probably has nothing to do with you...see, in my insecure being lurks the shame of myself, that I'm not good looking enough, that I've become this frumpy, fat, tired, gloomy woman that you shouldn't even bare to look at. And still you do. And still you want me. Maybe because I'm all you've got.
I just was made aware today that you are a normal man and that there may be after all,   always the possibility of you liking other women...especially those who look like models, you're just reasonable, right?