It's not that we were doomed from the start. On the contrary, we were soul mates; astrologically suited, interest profiled and placed on a compatible match listing in cyberspace. What could possibly go wrong?
In the beginning, he called me every two hours--soothing me, romancing me, and slowly enticing me into his magical spell. We spent our evenings at raves and after hours clubs. And Oh! The sex. A combination of flaming energies designed to pique our senses.
Soon, however, my magical kingdom began to crack.
At first it was the small things that seemed to bother him. My outfits were too revealing, my hair style too seductive, my makeup too daring, and that loving slap on my behind soon became a hurtful slap to my ego. I was beginning to crumble beneath the facade of "happily ever after", that I had so earnestly created.
Our breakup was mutual and we both chided eachother with those famous last words: we'll remain friends. To this day, I don't remember his name. His face is a blur, and my credit card debt, finally manageable.
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