when there’s history, it has a habit of repeating itself…1

It’s been years since I’d heard his voice.. let alone see his face. When he left, it had hit me pretty hard. I didn’t just lose a lover when he got on that plane.. I lost the best friend I had in San Diego.

Things with me and ****** were never completely normal.   We had a bizarre relationship of cat and mouse. We’d sit and talk for hours. We weren’t the greatest of people.. and we brought out the worst in eachother- which, oddly enough, was what made the chemistry all the more desirable.

He is the reverse magician. He pulled me into the rabbithole and showed me just how beautiful the broken world could be.

I remember one night at his parent’s place. We stayed in the guest room… I forgot why we didn’t stay in his. He grabbed some condoms and he pulled my hand to go.

Now I’m actually pretty respectful when it comes to parents that aren’t my own. Granted, I don’t believe they were home, but I think his brother was.

“I don’t want to bother anyone…”

“Jena, you’ll see.. the room is on another side of the house.. no one will hear anything. And even if they did, why would you care?”

That night…

It’s funny how much he really emascalapated that aura of darkness… a throne style chair stood vigilant under a window across the room. The moonlight shined through blinds, leaving glow and line molding the old chair.

“Go sit over there, I want to see something” I told him.

Shadows fell onto it in such a way. It was like out of a movie. Suddenly it was an interrogation room. He was to sit there and I was to.. I could barely see his face.

I recollect upon the memories we shared.. of booze filled nights of pretending we didn’t really need the other.. like we didn’t want one another… the cat and game push and pull romance of happily ever and brutal honesty and disdain.

He has..

He was..

He still is…

the brutal prince which I’ve held men a standard to.

I remember how he used to hide his brilliance. He didn’t show me just how driven and powerful he was until it was time to go… and maybe that’s why it hurt even more when he left… and even worse when he got a serious girlfriend shortly after his arrival to Scotland.

He had been in the back of my mind since he’d left. We continued to chat consistently. Through the difficult times of the past year.. he’s been able to see me grow and change.

Years later.. and it seems little has changed – with me and him at least. We chatted for hours and laughed and giggled. He’s single again. We talked about me getting a passport and visiting. It’s something we’d talked about since he’d left. It moved up my GTD again recently.

“What would your parents say if you brought me home?” he said.

“They’d be happy because they don’t know any better…”

He was the last thing I thought of when I went to sleep last night.. and he was the first that I thought of when I woke up.

I heard a ping this morning. It was him. We talked a few hours again this morning and he had to head out to go do some things. He said he’d call me later.

me: 1 last thing
******: sure
me: why message me when you first woke up?
******: I was thinking about you

Ah sometimes… life has a way of bringing you right back where you started. I think I know how the next conversation should start… Plane tickets bitch!

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