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Inception

When you told them that you liked me they told you I was an easy lay. They were right, but I didn't make it too easy for you. You watched how I made it really easy for others, and then asking my staff to go look for me and demand that I make your martinis or your teas, or your glasses of whisky neat. You used to order pies but I don't remember you eating them. For six months while I paraded in front of you with all sorts of one night stands, you sat on the black couch of my cafe and waited.

Six months you wandered around, so much so that you used my library and computer to create your own tour business after three companies had fired you for being too crazy. I thought you were a bit of an ass, even a little annoying but I still kept your favorite tea in stock and I still came down from my room to make your martinis when my employees told me you were downstairs. You would lay on the couch in the landing and watch me coming down the steps, stoned and tired, not on my shift just to make you what you wanted. You were a paying customer after all, one of my best.

So I finally gave in to you and the judgement started pouring in. Was I really sure that I wanted to be with you? He's a player, He is this, he is that. You were also charming, and fun, and crazy. I defended you at every turn, from every mean thing you said or did to other people. I apologized for you, I followed you, I trusted you. You would throw rocks at my window and I would throw the key.

After two weeks of running away together, going on trekking and camping trips, parties, late nights and late mornings, moving in to your house and deciding that I would go to another country with you (I was going anyway, I just added you to the mix, it was your home country after all), I sneaked away on our last night and made out with an old flame in her room in my cafe/house. You found me and our first fight was in the airport that next morning.

From there things went from crazy to insane and back again. There is an entire year that we don't talk about. I kept trying to run away from the madness while pulling out my hair and bursting veins in my eyes from anxiety attacks. I smoked as much weed as humanly possible and managed to get enough education to go back to Peru and start working freelance.

I left our apartment in Argentina by myself, you were sleeping, drunk and high and I was too. You didn´t realize I had left until I was halfway to Peru and then decided that you were coming after me. And you did. There were lies, cover ups, and all sorts of guilty feelings. We almost killed each other getting through it and it looked like nothing could ever be as bad again.

Then we got married.

Read the the next chapter "Love and Aloe"


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