WEIGHT: 67 kg
Bust: E
1 HOUR:50$
Overnight: +60$
Services: Fetish, Slave, Role playing, Golden shower (in), Facial
I'm in Split, Croatia, a city I barely know, in a country where I don't speak the language. I'd visited two months prior and had a fling with a local; he'd been the one to suggest I come back to stay with him for a week. Now I was here, but instead of the romantic week I'd been envisioning, he'd been constantly making plans with his friends; leaving me alone in his apartment.
The final straw was when he said he had plans to travel to Zagreb, a city three hours north, with his brother over the weekend, and then asked me what I'd planned to do with myself during those days.
I sobbed as he watched, an anxious expression crossing his face as he leapt to the defense, saying I was overreacting and being ridiculous. Eventually, after more than a few half-hysterical insults on my end, I stormed out telling him to never contact me again.
He took my request seriously: no texts asking if I was okay or calls asking me to come back. Meanwhile, I found it practically impossible to get a hotel reservation; the city was in the middle of a major music festival. Finally, I booked a place at a dingy hostel, where I'd be sharing a room with six loud dudes I had no interest in sleeping with in any sense of the word.
As I settled on my tiny twin bed and my tears subsided, I had the sinking realization that I'd had this feeling before. I was smack in the middle of what my friends and I term a heart scrape. It's when you know you'll be fine, that there was never a broken heart involved, but in the moment, the pain is shocking and raw. It's the psychological equivalent of a full body trip over the curb, where you stand up and realize your hands and knees are gushing blood.