So, the two things that really characterized our relantionship - me and Filipa - was that terrible excitement, that quite soon fizzled out. Looking back, We should've spent more time apart, buty very early we were living that couple kind of life where I'd be sleeping over every night...we didn't really get the chance to miss each other. Be that as it may, during our time together I'd managed to keep at bay that which made it impossible for me to get too attached to Eunice or Irene - my love for Silvia.
Sure, I maybe denied it to myself that I felt it still, but damn... I still carried pictures of her, and I still went back to convesrations we'd had over email often. I reasoned that I did so in order to punish myself, to make sure that the wounds never fully healed, and that the cross that was my guilt over all the things that I'd done to Silvia never got any easier to bear. And Filipa... well, in the beginning, at least, she made it very easy for me to hope. And yes, I had hoped that I could love again - true love - which I doubted I'd ever would. And I dared hope with Filipa. So, did I love her? Not really, though I think I did. I think we both did think we loved each other. But it wasn't love, really, it was just the passion and the libido and the circumstances of out entitr story. It felt dangerous, and wrong, and exciting. So we fooled each other into thinking that it was love.
But... I could never love Filipa - or anyone else, for that matter - back then. As months passed in our relationship, and as some distance began to grow between us, I started thinking more and more about Silvia, about my feelings for her. Oh, I knew, deep down in my heart of hearts that I'd never get her back, but damn if I didn't wish for just that more than anything else in the world. And on that new year's eve I spent with Filipa - a great night, really, with good food, good booze, and great sex - which was always great with Filipa when she got drunk - I found myself grabbing my phone and I emailed Silvia. I told her just how I felt, I told her I loved her still.
To be fair, this is something that I'd already done some months before, in a moment of weakness and much alcohol. I felt incredibly stupid for that the following day, and so reasoned that it had only happened because I'd gotten drunk. And her reply then, on this first occasion, was just as curt as it was on this second occasion - and that was the last time I'd ever tell Silvia I loved her. And yet... I felt it still. Though me and Filipa would still get a couple more months in, we'd end up calling it quits. Some months after that, we actually hooked up one night. I'd gone out on my own and I found myself in a place where I knew she might go as well. I texted her to see if she was nearby, and she was. We met, had a few drinks, spent the night dancing, and got drunk. But that was all I thought that was going to happen between us - as far as I knew she was already seeing someone else, and was quite happy. Imagine how I felt, when, to my surprise, she asked if we she could stay with me. Well, us having to sleep on the same bed - buck naked - led to some really great sex. The best we'd had together in a long, long time.
I never saw Filipa again after that night. We remained friends on social media, and I was delighted when she eventually got married. She got what she so richly deserved.
All I had was this love for Silvia. This terrible love.
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