Love stories told by an escort model

Abandoned from now on: How you gave me all the happiness in the world, and then took it away from me again

Last summer, you brought joy into my life, but the world at my feet put a smile on my face that I couldn’t shake. You have filled my heart and given me the energy and hope to overcome anything that comes my way. Read the best story on this Horny Escorts Blog.

I felt comfortable with you; I could be, let myself go and trust you blindly. You took away this happiness, laughter, energy, and hope a few weeks ago. Instead, you left me with great pain and deep sadness. I cried for days. I called for all the shared moments of laughter, honesty and love.

You told me that you love me incredibly but have no romantic love for me. What was all that?

But therein lay the problem: love. You told me that you love me incredibly, but you have no romantic love for an escort. What was all that? You have repeatedly told me how much you like me and how good I am for you. You couldn’t go a week without seeing me; you had difficulty letting me go after our weekend together.

Everything you gave me, all those feelings, words and looks. What was that? Wasn’t that real? To me, it felt natural and plentiful. It felt like one of those cheesy shitty romance novels. It felt like everything I gave you; I got back from you. In any case, I never felt unloved.

Am I the right one for you? Is that love? Is that what you hope for in the future?

But you have been plagued by fears and doubts hour after hour. Am I the right one for you? Is that love? Is that what you hope for in the future? You said everything is perfect when I’m with you, and you’re not missing anything. But when you are alone with your thoughts, the doubts have not left you.

All over, just like that, and I wasn’t asked.

I will probably never understand why you couldn’t see what I saw. I will never understand that love is perhaps different for me than for you. But I’ll try to accept it. But it’s just too damn difficult to give up on you – us. In our whole relationship, there was nothing terrible, no fighting, no negativity, nothing.

You decided for me; I had nothing to say about it.

So how can I give up this relationship that has made me so incredibly happy and light? You decided for me; I had nothing to say about it. We had planned a lovely few days; I was overjoyed on the way to you. But then everything turned out differently, and you revealed to me that you couldn’t prolong our relationship any longer and ended it.

I know it hasn’t been easy for you. But the ground was pulled out from under my feet. I couldn’t prepare for this moment. I couldn’t do anything; I was helpless and fell into a deep black hole.

Today, a few weeks later, I left this black hole. I will probably never really understand you and your motivations, but I am on the way to accepting them. Maybe I’ll stick a foot into the black hole now and then, but I won’t sink into it anymore.

You are an essential person in my life, and I can’t just cut you from my life from one day to the next. I can’t, and I don’t want to either.

I still miss you very much. But I hope that one day we can be friends. You are an essential person in my life, and I can’t just cut you from my life from one day to the next. I can’t, and I don’t want to either.

One day we will sit together on our bench and talk about the good old days and, with a tear in our eyes, remember our time together and be incredibly grateful for what we had. I look forward to it.

Bye London – The search for myself doesn’t work when I’m with you.

I’ll be honest with you – we grew apart. From where do I know this? Well, I don’t miss you anymore for the first time. Before you, there were others. I tried myself, but it wasn’t until I got to you that I had the feeling that I could arrive.

You took me in with my quirks; you had enough of them yourself. But I could love you just the way you were, and I felt at home with you for the first time.

Yes, London, you were home to every part of me. In you, I suffered, laughed, screwed up, ran away from myself and mostly caught up somehow. And you were there for everything and there for me. You didn’t ask any questions but always had an open ear. When other cities slept, you fought your way through the night with me.

London – more than my home

Too many times, you’ve reminded me of myself, and maybe that’s what drew me to you. Both broken, both excessive and always searching. And whenever I was apart from you, I missed you. I missed you, even if the sky and the houses were fewer greys elsewhere. Even though people took better care of each other somewhere else, there was less loneliness and failure, and even though I was torn apart less often somewhere else – it was always a relief when I could be with you again.

I had a guilty conscience because I owed you so much. We belong together, yet I feel that you helped me, above all, to take my mind off myself. Whenever I was in danger of losing my footing and falling, you welcomed me with open arms and endless opportunities to get out of my head and out of my fears.

But maybe I should have fallen. Perhaps I needed you to set boundaries for me, to stop putting up with my shit – but that’s not how you are, and that’s not how I wanted you to be, either.

Suddenly, I felt harassed by you and more and more often, I thought, ‘Leave me alone today!’

Then I stumbled, and you just kept going, not even noticing that I was slowing down. I looked after you, wanted to call you – and then decided not to run after you for once but to take a different path. Alone.

Damn, I was scared without you and your power to numb my head so beautifully. I could have used that numbness because the new path was dark and incredibly rocky. But I sensed that there was no going back, that I didn’t want to catch up with you. So I pushed forward, step by step, not knowing what to expect. Was there anything waiting for me?

Yes, London, sometimes I was about to give up calling you and asking you to take me back. But whenever I looked around for you, there were what felt like oceans between us. At first, it broke my heart. But as lonely as I thought without your warming murmurs, I finally found my own pace without your pounding drive.

Discover home in yourself

My heart stopped racing; the path got easier with time. And then, one day, in the distance in front of me, it wasn’t just darkness anymore. Then suddenly, I wasn’t alone anymore. While my gaze had to get used to the shimmer in the distance, someone unexpectedly took my hand. It felt familiar yet brand new. I looked around and recognized myself.

Now I don’t miss you anymore. Suddenly you’re just a city. Because I have found a new companion who will look after me and wait for me when I need it longer. I don’t miss you anymore, You, your madness and the constant hunger for more. Because now I’ve got everything I need – I’ve got myself.

Someone unexpectedly took my hand. I looked around and recognized myself.

London, I want to be honest: Our time has come, just as every time. But don’t blame yourself because even if you almost destroyed me, I think of you warmly, and I am grateful to you. You couldn’t do anything for my weakness.

I know that my loss won’t hurt you. You probably don’t even notice him. Because while I wave goodbye to you once more, you are already setting off into the night with another searching soul.

Jumping in at the deep end: How much can I get involved in a new relationship?

Traditions are something beautiful: They provide structure and comfort. My good friend Taylor Swift agrees and releases a new album after every breakup. And even if I don’t want to follow Swift’s habit completely, mainly for fear that no one will want to date me anymore. The recent experience has prompted me to do a little self-reflection precisely because I can get a lot out of this self-therapeutic coping strategy.

So welcome to the little therapy session. It’s nice that you’re here; please have a seat. Entry ticket to adventure relationship.

About four months ago, just in time for the second lockdown, one date untypically led to the next. After a relatively short initiation period, I stood at the edge of the pool called Relationship and was given a supposed season ticket.

I stood at the edge of the pool called Relationship and considered whether I should jump in headfirst, with a running start and without a nose.

I considered whether I should jump in headfirst, make a run-up and hold my nose up, or approach this well-known but still problematic body of water more cautiously.

Since a dive was too unsafe for me due to the fear of doing a belly flop, losing my bikini top or suffering a fatal heart attack – in the worst case, all three scenarios would co-occur – I decided on the safer option. After all, I hadn’t been swimming for a long time.

Just put your big toe in the water.

So I planned to first stick my big toe in and wet all extremities with the cool water, but my little heart was above all. This way, everyone involved in the bathing fun could get used to the new temperature. I also put on my diving Google to be safe. She had relatively thick, pink glasses.

When the water was about up to my stomach and therefore still quite far from my heart – and soon we also managed to do it with the verbal images – the sentence “I’m just not in love with you” took me by surprise, but still felt good more on the head.

The sentence surprised me: I’m just not in love with you.

I had just asked my swimming partner if he would also like to have a coffee and expected a yes, no, maybe about the hot drink, but not about myself.

So we stood there pretty stupid, the coffee, my diving goggles and I. So get out of the water and take off your diving goggles; what a pity. Now I have such an ugly imprint on my face, and I’m back at the pool’s edge far too suddenly.

Alone back at the edge of the pool

Now I could follow the first impulse and ask myself why I had been expelled from the pool, if and what I had done wrong. I could look for reasons why I hadn’t managed to dive. Was it because of my thick life jacket, which I had hastily put on so as not to drown again?

I might wonder why my pink diving goggles were tighter on my face than on his. I could spread all of these and many more questions next to my towel at the edge of the pool, examine them with a magnifying glass and, like in memory, hope for the correct answer under the following snippet of thought that I would turn over.