"I remember how much you used to love having sex. I mean really love it. Like I did. God I'm not like that anymore. I wonder if you are, if you always were or if only with me. Or at least, lastly with me, but I doubt it, I mean, I know that most likely isn't true.
Not to exaggerate her promiscuity or anything, but, even if she did begin to deny it at one point, she's a red blooded creature, I remember. I remember that much at least.
I miss her. And I missed the opportunity to love her... truly. Without the sex. Without what we hated, at the time, but loved, and deemed to be evil, the evil in us.
Only once. Only once did I experience those feelings with another. I'm alone in it a lot. So was she? No. She found people with which to share it. She found me once, or at least my body. And used me, like I used her, unintentionally, intentionally. Not maliciously. Just naive."
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