Before I wrap up the story of Lady Voldemort and her increasingly insane antics, now is as good a time as any to tell the Patricia story. It'll be a short one, because that's just how our relationship was - short. I can't remember now how I met Patricia - maybe she was a facebook friend, maybe we matched on tinder. Whatever the way we crossed paths with each other, I do know that on our first date things had gone pretty well : I felt really good by her side, and she did as well - at least I like to think she did. Soone enough I'd be meeting her young daughter, and she met my son as well. It seemed a good thing. And as the aforementioned drama unfolded, she was extremely supportive of me. She realized at once that I was being manipulated, and encouraged me to sever ties with Lady Voldemort.
One thing I realize now is that we weren't together that often - though we'd talk all the time, I'd see her once, maybe twice a week. Though she didn't live far from me, it was pretty out of the way, so I'd have to meet her halfway or she'd pick me up at home or somewhere else. She was quite busy, though she didn't have a full-time job at that moment. Rather, she was a budding baby photographer, who was making her name well known in that scene, and when she wasn't in photo sessions, she was looking after her kid, and a few weeks at night she'd go to a photography course she was taking to further her own skills. I was busy at work as well, so us not being together that often didn't bother me much back then. It's just funny, looking back now.
She was someone whose presence brought me immense peace, and I have fond memories of us having dinner and drinks at her house, and I adored sleeping by her side. A strange thing : we rarely had sex; though I enjoyed the sex we had, I don't think she did. We never talked about it, maybe because we didn't last that long, but I always got that feeling.
But the thing I'll always remember was the last few hours of our relationship. I was in love with her, and it seemed like she was in love with me as well. On our last night together, I went to the place where she was taking her course, and when we met and I saw her - she was so well dressed, so radiant, so beautiful - I fell in love with her even more. My heart really hoped she was the one.
We went back to her place, and when we went to bed, I was still swimming in the warmth of this feeling. And then I did the most stupid thing I could've ever done. I gave her an out.
So I tell her that I'm pretty much completely totally in love with her. And that if she had any doubts, or didn't feel the same way for me, if she felt it was best we called it quits... then all she had to do was tell me. I'd understand.
We talked some more, she said everything was great between us, we kissed goodnight and went to sleep. The next morning, she drove me to work, and just as I'm about to kiss her goodbyes, she looks at me and asks me if I remember what we'd talk about the night before. I said yeah, I sure did.
Why would I have been expecting for anything else but for her to tell she was taking me up on my offer and calling it quits? Truly, I am the stupidest person alive.
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