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There will always be 'that one'

There will always be 'that one’, whos scar will stay etched on your heart long after the memories have started to fade.
But my memories are still fresh and I’m already starting to see with a certain clarity, there is no hate anymore but neither is there any love - just acceptance of the cold realisation that we were addicted to the passion. That was a life you were accustomed to but me, not so much. This was something different and as I’d find out, entirely consuming.
I always thought this was what I wanted, I still do, but not in the way we dragged it out of each other. Our passion was forced because the rest of our relationship was stale. When your idea of excitement is trying a new dish at your weekly restaurant, you know there’s something wrong and I think that alarm bell was ringing for both of us.
So that was how we started, pushing intangible buttons with taunting mind games, pulling any self confidence from each other and shoving it out the door, piercing neighbourhood silence with screaming matches escalating higher and higher until the emotional abuse spilled out into the physical.
Each time I’d feel exhausted, raw and like my world was imploding. But you were never as affected as I was, funnily enough it seemed that while I was crying defeated, it was your time to shine, ready to pick me up and promise me the world. I’d cling to you still fuelled with emotion and somewhere in that mind fog, we’d have incredible sex.
And that was the cycle, the roundabout that we pushed for 2 and a half years. I wish the realisation of confusing passion for love came to me sooner, alarm bells ring for a reason and from this, I take that lesson.
You don’t need to understand everything to make a decision, follow your instincts, don’t drown out the tiny voice of your soul - it knows you better than you think.

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