

After not even three weeks - Paul came back.
He apologized, and I think he truly felt it. He had left her wife, and was in the process of a divorce. He realized how happy he was with me, and wanted me back.
I, sadly, didn't love him anymore. Not because of pride or anything - I truly and simply didn't feel love.
I had tasted love, and I wasn't going to accept anything _similar_ to it.
I love freedom, I love support, I love company - and I love love!
I'm not alone anymore, I don't need a "man to rescue me". Next time I'm with someone, it will be *purely* out of love. I will be able to take care of myself, I will keep (and offer) all the freedom in the world, and have threesomes, and adventures, and orgies - and then, we'll go home, order McDonald's, and watch our fav show/anime of the moment.
Because that's love for me - happiness. If you don't make me happy, or I don't make you happy, why bother?