Other Feet In The Sea

I had been seeing this amazing girl for a little more than a year. She was cute, funny, intelligent, talented and had hit the game-winning shot in the Oklahoma eighth-grade girls' half-court basketball championship.

Unfortunately (but not surprisingly), I fucked it up: I have an intense foot and nylon fetish and like to be dominated and humiliated. I was engaging in those activities off and on (but mostly on) with a different girl throughout our relationship because my girlfriend didn't seem inclined toward those activities. On a few different occasions, I'd explained what I was doing and, well, broke up with her because of it.

Finally, this past March, things came to a nasty boil and we completely stopped seeing each other. As cliché as it sounds, I feel like I've lost the best thing that has ever happened to me; I really truly believe she's the one.

I've started seeing a therapist. But she's not impressed and has said that she doesn't want to do this again. I feel like she still loves me and that if I just take my time and try to become her friend, then at some point, she'll realize that I am truly sorry, and that I am truly trying to understand and control my behavior. Will this work? Is she 110 percent saying that I should get lost?

She did ask me to watch her cat while she's away in Spain.

-Lovelorn Fuck-Up

Damn, could I put a fella like you to good use right about now. A week later, and my dogs are still twitching in pain after a night teetering around a Supersuckers (yay!) show in a pair of too-tall heels. Hell, if I didn't think it'd piss off the Large Greek, I'd let you massage my tootsies (don't forget the arch!) and then I'd even beat the crap outta you once you were done as a special bonus. But he gets all uptight about other men sucking on my toes and whatnot. Foreigners. They're such a passionate people.

So let's just forget about my aching feet and solve your dilemma.

Now I'm not saying that men are stupid or anything, but in all my years of problem-solving, I've never received this brand of letter from a woman. You know the type I'm talking about-the guy who has lied, cheated, and generally scumbagged a dame for an entire year, only to discover she's "the one" after she's wisely kicked his well-deserving philandering ass to the curb. Why can't you jackasses treat the lady well while you've got her? Why? I'll tell you why-because you're a moron. (Okay, I lied, perhaps I am saying men are stupid-at least some of them.) In case you were wondering, admitting you're a fuck-up doesn't absolve you of fucked-upedness. At best it makes you a moderately self-aware fuck-up. Big deal.

As I'm not inside her head, I don't know what she's thinking, but the best thing you could do is leave this poor girl alone. She's not into footplay or domination, and these are two things you obviously feel very strongly about. I highly doubt therapy is going to help you kick those habits, any more than the right shrink could turn a straight man gay. For better or worse, this is your kink and I think you should try to live with it. Besides, as far as fetishes go, yours is fairly, ahem, pedestrian.

You live in New York City, where there are approximately a bazillion women out there who'd gladly let you slobber all over their feet and then sneer at what a pathetic excuse for humanity you are. (Hot yet?) This particular girl happens to not be one of them. Let her go.

Have you also considered that maybe part of your renewed ardor springs from Sweetcheeks' finally showing a little backbone and taking control of the situation? Think back? Did you decide she was "the one" before or after she threw the plate at your head? What happens if she does take you back and reverts into the loving lady she was before you pissed her off? Then what? You either find some sweet feet action on the side or deny yourself the very thing that gives you the most pleasure.

Either way you've got a lose/lose situation on your hands. What's the point?

Besides, the whole concept of "the one" is bullshit, perpetrated by greeting-card companies and the Lifetime channel. I've had months where I've met seven or eight "ones" at a clip. You had a nice girl who wasn't right for you and so you fucked it up. Move on and find another "one." Preferably one who'll let you sniff her socks once in a while.

Oh, and if you do decide to cat sit, please don't defile her shoes while she's gone.