How could he do this to me? We totally hit it off. Spent the last 2 weeks together.

After meeting in Niagara Falls while I was vacationing with my friend and her niece, we spent many romantic days together. We went to an amusement park, the State Fair, picnics and had lots of great sex.He was very different. So cute with long, thick, shiny brown hair. His ice blue eyes and a stupid cocky smile made me forget about his slight speech impediment.He was funny, a partier and definitely cool. He came and spent time with me at my house. I really like this guy – this is fun, new & exciting.

But then, there I was, in downtown Toronto – totally alone. Realizing what’s happened. Oh my God, he’s gone. The motherfucker really took off. What the fuck do I do now? I looked around, realizing where I was. Right outside of the Eaton Centre, I sat all alone.

After about an hour, I finally realized, “oh my God, he’s definitely not coming back”.What do I do now? Oh my God. Ok,
don’t panic. Ok, get myself together. I’ve got to find my car. Since he knew the city, he had me park on a side street. I swear I remember the name, Ulster Street, which I silently rejoiced when I found it, but my car was not there. Was it
towed? Had he stolen it? Now I really began to panic
because it was starting to get dark and I’m all alone.  Been
stiffed and in this major city, filled with mostly foreigners and tourists and didn’t hear much English or see any empathy when I did ask someone a question.

I walked and I walked.What else could I do? Then, oh my
God – there it was. I finally found my car!! My heart
pounded and I felt that respite feeling. An overwhelming sanctuary sensation like I’m home; that I’m finally safe. But I’m not home.  I’m not safe.

While feeling some relief finally sitting in my own car, I locked the doors and took a deep breath – the adventure wasn’t over yet. I put my hands on the steering wheel and took another deep breath. Next I had to find my way out of there. Get me to the American border please. I just want to go home! Deciphering the highway routes from my torn map I started to head out, half smiling at my navigational skills when I saw -- I’m almost out of gas. Doesn’t this just add to it? Was not easy finding a gas station so late on a Sunday night in Canada. Most were closed. Then I realized I had no money. Luckily I have plastic. Guess that’s how my credit card bills get so high. Emergencies…

After the grueling battle to find my way to the border, I finally crossed thru the long line at customs, then feeling semi-assured that I would make it home. I only had 3 hours
to drive and think and compose. That’s when the magnitude of what happened to me began to sink in. I drove and I
thought. And I as I drove, I cried. I cried all the way
home...