As passionate, and as deeply, as Jamie and I had fallen in love; we were both at very different stages of our lives.

Jamie was still wanting to party, I was coming to the end of my raving days.

I had a great time doing it.

I had no regrets about doing any of it.

But I just couldn't do it anymore.

I was no longer wanting to take drugs, he had no intention of stopping. I was wanting to settle down a bit, find a job, start being more responsible, I guess—Jamie had no intention of ever staying in one place for too long.

We were in love, but out of sync.

In hindsight, it was at this point, that I should have walked away.

No, I should have actually ran for the faraway hills. But I didn't. I had fallen in love with Jamie, and I was hooked on his love. I was hooked on all the things that I imagined we could be. The writer in me, she had her beautiful and complicated muse. The writer in me, adored his fearless passion for music. With Jamie, I was experiencing things that I'd never experienced with anyone before. That alone, made me want to be with him. Whatever the cost, he was mine.

You would think that when I discovered his birthday was on the exact same day as my mum's, you would think that the red flag would have flapped around in front of me, wouldn't you?

Yet it didn't.

I chose to ignore the promises to myself.

I chose to ignore the red flags.

I just chose to ignore anything negative that would sometimes creep into my mind, because I loved my unpredictable Piscean. Yup, my heart had well and truly fallen into the hands of a nomadic dreamer.

I convinced myself, that our differences wouldn't fade any of our feelings for one another. I convinced myself that the fact that I had shared my troubling past with Jamie, had deeply meant something. That it meant enough for me to stay. Because when I had confided in him, he had also confided in me.

His own life was just as screwed up as mine. He too, had a distant biological father. His stepdad, would become his role model, and that role model was a violent and aggressive man towards Jamie's mother. He told me that on so many occasions, he watched his mum get beaten. He wanted to help, but was afraid of his stepdad, and oddly, still admired him. That violent man, was the man who first introduced Jamie to music, so he always felt like he had an obscured feeling of loyalty towards him. His relationship with his mother was constantly strained, which only got more strained the older Jamie got. He once told me about a time when she found a small bag of acid in his bedroom. His mum screamed and yelled at him, then confusingly gave him the bag back. When he told me that, I was just as confused. Why give him back the drugs?

I think his mum was out of her depth. At the time, she was being regularly beaten and her son was going completely off the rails. The woman simply had no fight left in her. She would eventually go on to find the strength needed to leave the violent man in her life, but her relationship with Jamie would never be the same again. Just like with my own mother; his would forever be an embittered one.

So yeah, myself and Jamie were two screw ups, who happened to stumble into one another's screwed up lives. I think we both clung to what we had, thinking that it would be the answer to all of our emotional problems. But the truth is—we were never right for one another.

Lust and desire, overshadowed common sense.

Years down the line, I can admit that now.

But at the time, I let Jamie in...letting all of my protection out.

I became consumed by Jamie.

Those first six weeks with him, were enough to make me fall in love with him and want to be the one to fix the broken pieces of his damaged soul.

I believed I could do that.

I believed my love would be enough.

It wasn't long before I found out that my love wasn't enough.

That I wasn't enough.

One morning, my loving and attentive Jamie, became an argumentative and moody Jamie. He went from being calm and relaxed, to someone who was on edge and restless. I didn't know it then, but this would be the first telltale sign that he was about to leave me.

He would cause an argument, just to have an excuse to storm out.

So after six weeks of beautiful bliss together, that was what he did...he left me.

I didn't know where to.

I didn't understand why.

I only knew that I was beyond desperate because he had.

On that first confusing and painful time, I was lost. The pain of being without him, was a new kind of pain. Myself and pain knew one another all too well, but this torment felt like it was suffocating me from the inside. This torment was being caused by someone I had willingly let in. By someone I willingly loved. By someone I had willingly been intimate with. Jamie's torment, would soon become all that I lived and breathed for.

My love for him, rendered me unprotected and vulnerable.

So when he came back about a week after leaving me, I stupidly let him right back into my life. I didn't just let him return, I begged him to not ever leave me again. I begged him to stay and to love me again.

That would become my biggest mistake of all.

From that moment on, Jamie knew he could get away with treating me just how he wanted. I had willingly (and desperately) given all of myself to him—and my God, didn't he enjoy taking it.