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The loud lock of the door was always somehow a reminder that this, whatever it was, would end really soon.

He began calling me “his woman” after I cleaned up the house and cooked a meal the first day of our “life together”.

The selfishness he possessed in daily life was replaced to utter selflessness when it came to pleasing me.

He would completely forget his needs just to focus on me.

When he was like this I didn’t bother trying to play clown and entertain him. I did the girly thing and tried to hit him, but the truth is it didn’t infuriate me. He enjoyed the push and pull of our temporary relationship. There was a certain element of sexual tension created by that though I will agree – it is not a healthy one.

But as he grabbed me and I hit him, the more I hit him, the more he enveloped me, with me wanting him right there.

He was not That evening, I checked out of the hostel and moved into his place.

Bad Boy The city of Cordoba finally came into view. If I had met someone else, I would have probably reconsidered this trip. I felt and looked horrendous, after our two sleepless night when I was attacked by bedbugs in the little village close to Bolivia.

It has been 20 hours on the bus from the North of Argentina but there is no better feeling than heading to see someone you like; every minute, every hour bringing you closer to where they are. Yes, I liked Fran, and yes, we had some sort of weird connection, but he would never be someone I would end up with. After all, I was heading to see someone I had no future with. There was no way I was staying with him as he suggested I do.

Why did he leave the city when he knew I was coming? His sun-tanned face grinning at me with the happiness of a child where I again tried to play it cool.

After we returned to the hostel from fruitless shopping, I got a message from him offering to grab some food. I lay on the upper bunk miserably unable to do anything else but talk about him, tap my foot and check my phone every two seconds. As soon as I did, he offered to drive back to Cordoba. You will kill yourself if you don’t” – told me my poor friend who has been listening to stories of Fran for weeks now. In the car, he explained the situation: “I didn’t know what you wanted!

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