Three years later
One would think that you wouldn't remember a man you've known for almost a month and had one wild night with him.
Yet, here I am. Three years later, still holding onto the hope that he's coming back when deep inside of me, I know I'll probably never hear of him again.
After our night together, he really went away. Josephine, the old woman living upstairs, had right. He packed and moved and didn't even consider telling me. Maybe that's what hurt the most. He didn't even send me a text message. Nothing. He just disappeared.
And all these years, there still hasn't been a day that went on without me thinking about him. Every night before I go to sleep I think about what went wrong. What was the reason that he left? Was it because that was a one-time thing for him and he wanted to make sure that he never sees me again? Or did something else happen?
But what could happen so hastily that he'd have to pack up in one morning and just disappear without any word? I considered us being good friends, hell, of course I did if we slept together.
I fell in love with him. God knows I didn't want to, but we can't choose who we love. Life would be so much simpler if we did.
After Damien, I haven't been with any other man. It sounds stupid and I should be embarrassed for loving someone I haven't known for that much time. But, Christ, that man crawled under my skin and I couldn't get him out!
I was devastated for a long time after he left. I'm still not completely okay, but it's better. Time does that. It makes it easier, although it still feels like a part of me is missing.
I also got myself a new flatmate. Sam left a year ago and I've been lonely in my too big flat. I'm a sociable person, so I need someone to talk to. I put an advertisement in a newspaper that I'm looking for a flatmate and a woman, named Rory Warren, was the first one that came here. She liked it enough to move in with me.
I was happy to hear that. We've got to know each other a bit with mostly me talking because it seemed like she wasn't a very talkative person, but that could be changed. I found out she was 25. And she was really pretty. My first thought was that she was definitely my brother's type.
My brother who became a big whore after Victoria, his finacée, left him three years ago. He doesn't want to settle down, always having new women, not ready for any commitment. I often give him shit about it, but he merely brushes it off.
I haven't told Braden anything about what happened with Damien. I knew he would find him and terribly hurt him if he found out. So I rather stayed quiet.
The girls are the only ones that know what happened. We're still very good friends, although we all grew up a lot. Amy and Cory are now in a serious relationship and Sam is still looking. Just months ago she broke up with her boyfriend because she said he was boring as hell in bed and she just can't fake it anymore.
And then there's me, who's still being pathetic because of a man that left after spending one night with me. I tried looking, I tried to make myself like any man enough to date him. But after a few drinks or dates, I just couldn't force myself to be in a relationship with someone I know I won't feel the same about as he will do for me.
I'm still looking, though, still trying to heal the wound Damien caused.
I'm meeting Braden today at my flat and I'm stuck in the traffic, already running late. Rory might be there, unpacking as she said, but I forgot to mention that I'm having a visitor today because I thought I would be home on time.
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