27. When we met I was sure that I will never love him.

He was not my type; he was rather ugly, lank mousy blonde hair, at least 20 kg overweight–a bit like James Gandolfini without the Sopranos - not what I thought I was after.

His jokes were a failed attempt to be funny and his nightclub job trained him to be affected. I went to that club almost every weekend.

Eventually we became friends. Never before I received so much attention from a man.

well, what can you say about a nineteen-year-old girl?

I enjoyed it ! It started with an invitation for a drink and a casual conversation. He tossed in some compliments about my face and other stuff.

Did he read the guidelines for the process of seduction? Did it include preparing things to say before going out and telling women surreptitiously impressive stories? Soon he took me out and showed me places I have never been before.

How predictable. 

He surprised me with gifts.

What a tease.

I didn’t care because I became a teenage sucker for attention -like scrolling through a tumble page with no end. Still, he was not my type.

I felt nothing.

When he came closer I turned away. Every time he tried to kiss me,  pushed him away and laughed. It was just too easy. It was too obvious.

I kept on mastering the game. I loved to obtain the elusive upper hand. And then came the day when he fucked that girl. He persuaded me to love him and then he didn’t give a shit about me like he did before.