Life’s a bitch, then you marry one. I know that those cases are rare, but they do exist, and I speak from a personal experience. At first, when you meet, she’s gorgeous. She’s sweet, attractive and understanding. Then after a few months, you decide to live together. So far so good, but then it starts: You cancel the apartment you live in and move in with her. Not the other way around, no, you move in with her. But it’s all new and you’re excited. The first day of your new life together you bring in all your stuff, things you’ve gathered throughout the years and are, though there’s a lot of crap in between it, valuable. Even if it’s just a sentimental value, you care about your stuff. But as you want to unpack all these boxes, you start to wonder where you’re going to put them. Not in her closet or not next to her cd-collection. Then where the fuck can I put them? She tells you you need to make a severe selection of the stuff you want to keep, because there just isn’t enough room for everything. But don’t think she will throw things away. No, it was her house before you came in, so you have to adept. And that’s not all: As good as the sex was in the beginning when you met her, as bad is it now. If you receive it at all! She’s not understanding anymore and gets upset for the smallest things. If you want to go out and have a drink with your mates every two or three weeks, she’s all like: “are you going out again? With whom are you going? You are having an affair, aren’t you? “ It really drove me insane. What happened to that sweet, innocent woman I felt in love with? After months and months of the same bullshit, I decided it was enough. I really needed some affection and friendship from a woman. So I set up a date with one of the hookups in Brussels. At that point, she’d have at least one reason to wine about. Even if she didn’t know the reason. When I met the hookup girl from Brussels, she was what a woman should be like: kind, sexy, understanding and with respect towards me. Off course, the respect was mutual. I found her through hookupsearch.reviews and she filled in every expectation I have had about this meeting. I could have a laugh with a woman again. I could talk and someone would listen to me. It was at that point that I realized I could not upkeep my relationship like that. When I came home that night, I talked with my girlfriend and strangely enough, we managed to put our differences aside and we took a new start. Now I never felt happier in my relationship with her. That evening away from her with that hookup, who gave me a true GFE (girlfriend experience), had made me capable of saving my relationship. Or should I say that one of the hookups of Brussels saved my relationship. I might as well.