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It seems to be nothing special. At least at first glance. In any case, it frightened me when it happened, and, remembering this story after the past three years, it made me a little uneasy.

I was dating a guy, I was fifteen at the time, he was eighteen. We had been dating for a little over a year at the time. One morning I went to his house, but he had gone out to run some errands and we were talking with his sister. At that moment his stepfather came back from his night shift. He was a little drunk. He called us in, sat us each on his knee, hugged us, and told us he loved us both equally: his own daughter and me, his stepson’s girlfriend.

I was dating a guy, I was fifteen at the time, he was eighteen. We had been dating for a little over a year at the time. One morning I went to his house, but he had gone out to run some errands and we were talking with his sister. At that moment his stepfather came back from his night shift. He was a little drunk. He called us in, sat us each on his knee, hugged us, and told us he loved us both equally: his own daughter and me, his stepson’s girlfriend.

And he started to talk some nonsense. I mean, very clearly and logically, it didn’t sound like drunken ramblings, but suddenly and unexpectedly he was saying things that made me and the guy’s sister dumbfounded. He said that a lot of people envied us because we were a good-looking couple (I was indeed envied by a lot of people, because they thought my boyfriend was handsome – as if looking good-looking was a guarantee of a happy relationship), that some people had a grudge against us, a lot of anger and we were in danger. That he (my stepfather) is a sorcerer and can heal, for example, any wound in a second, and if something is wrong, then I should go to him to sort it out.

After this conversation, he hid his eyes from me for a long time and avoided me, although we always communicated well.

The relationship with the guy didn’t work out, and really because of someone else’s spite, but that’s a separate story.

Two years after that, we broke up. But he won’t let me go. I have another man I love, but my mother treats him badly, makes me visit my ex-boyfriend’s page in social networks, cries about his unhappy fate. She keeps bringing up his ugly unloved new girlfriend.

I have endless nightmares about him, I see him all the time. It’s been more than a year since the breakup, I don’t love him, but instead of love I have an almost panicked fear of his appearance in my life.

Once, after a breakup, my ex tried to rape me. I didn’t report it, I told my mom, and she felt sorry for him again! I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, if it’s my morbidly frightened fantasy, or if there’s some connection…

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