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The scars

Filipe smiles mischievously at my reaction. He continues to kiss my neck and I let myself be carried away by that wonderful sensation.

I surrender completely to what seems to be a new sensation. Filipe pulls down the sleeve of my blouse, leaving my shoulder exposed and a large part of my bust.

Filipe continues to kiss my skin and then stops, and I see him looking at my bust, which the blouse was still largely hiding.

Filipe put both hands on my waist and pushed me away abruptly, and I smiled at his gesture. Just as he was about to resume his trail of kisses, I stopped him.

I touched his unshaven beard, which gave him an incomparable beauty. I look at his well-shaped lips and follow the movement Filipe makes with his tongue, moistening his lips.

I couldn't resist the urge any longer and brought our lips together. The kiss wasn't quick, but it was exploratory. Our tongues were dueling, making the kiss even more delicious.

I stopped the kiss due to shortness of breath, but Filipe didn't stop to recover and went down to my chin and again to my neck. But he soon moved closer again, bringing our lips together once more.

He pinned me against the wall and continued to hold my waist firmly. He touched my leg, which was visible through my skirt, and seemed pleased to see it. We kissed again and I took the opportunity to touch him.

I opened the buttons of his smock and ran my hands over the area. Filipe was so fit that I suddenly regretted comparing Fernando to a wall, in fact his cousin was a wall.

Honestly, that man without smorking should have been an unforgettable scene, but one that I couldn't afford to watch.

So I stopped the kiss, which made Filipe look at me confused, and I made him even more confused when I took his hands off my waist. I gave him an innocent smile and kissed him, leaving his side.

I headed for the door while sorting out my clothes and saw two glasses of wine. I picked one up and took a sip. It was delicious, but it didn't taste as good as Filipe's kiss. I smiled at the thought and turned towards him.

Filipe had his attention on my body and only stopped looking after a few moments. I laughed at his attitude and looked at him carefully too.

Tomorrow, regret would come like a punch, but I had promised myself that I would never get involved with men like Filipe again. Those who know how to make a woman feel unique, but only for one night.

I wasn't 18 anymore and I didn't have the patience for that kind of adventure. Although I wasn't looking for or expecting a Prince Charming, I knew I deserved much more.

"You were right." I tell him with a smile, making him look at me confused. "The drink here is better."

I give him a cheeky smile, one of those Philip must always give out. I turn my back and leave the place. I make a point of walking slowly and calculating my steps carefully. I knew one thing for sure: I had just left a man completely confused.

[***]

I went back to the party just to have dinner and get some snacks. I went so quickly that I didn't even bump into Filipe, but just by imagining him, I felt a warmth run through my body. I hadn't accepted a man like Filipe for a long time.

I'd been used a lot by bad boys and they had no mercy. My first boyfriend was a bad boy and, after a few months, he opened up.

After pressuring him to introduce me to his parents and friends, he told me the real reason for the proposal. He said he thought I was hot, but that I was only there to make him more experienced in sex.

He kept saying that his friends would laugh at him when they saw him with a woman my size. That was my first love disappointment, but it wasn't the only one.

All the men wanted to date on the sly. They didn't speak directly, but I knew they didn't want to be seen with me. I spent a lot of time looking for a "prince charming", a guy who would go out with me, introduce me to his friends and make it clear that we were together.

But that never happened, so I suffered. It always ended the same way, with me crying and thinking I was awful. I hated mirrors and even stopped eating to lose weight. And I did lose weight, but there was something wrong.

Everyone deluded me that everything would get better after I lost weight, but it actually got worse. I was always obsessed with my weight and always wanted to lose more.

I didn't eat, and soon my body accused me. I was treated for anorexia for two years, two bloody years that I didn't live. I met Vidia at that time and she was about to enter this life.

It was then that I looked at her body, full of curves and still very beautiful. And when I heard her say it was horrible, I laughed in her face and called her crazy.

It was when Vidia found an old photo of me that things changed. In the photo there were two versions of me, the one as a child and the one as a teenager.

Both versions were chubby and Vidia made me look at those photos for long minutes. Then she took me to the mirror.

I was 45 kilos, the body that people thought was "perfect". Then Vidia asked what was different between my past and present.

I laughed at her question and said that I was now more than 50 kilos lighter. And Vidia said that I wasn't referring to weight and that I should take a closer look.

Vidia left and left me with that big doubt. It was dawn when I got out of bed and looked in the mirror. I looked at my reflection and then at that photograph. The difference was obvious.

Now I had dark circles under my eyes and my face looked like someone who had lost hope, and I had almost lost it. Then I looked at those two versions of my past and noticed the glow I had.

I was smiling in both photos, a real smile. I stared at myself again, as if silently telling myself that I couldn't remember the last time I had smiled.

I looked at those past selves and missed them terribly. I cried and hugged those photographs. I felt bitter for having hurt myself all this time. I wished I could go back in time and tell both of them how beautiful they were.

I wanted to be able to tell them to make different decisions and to love each other. I felt like I had killed them from the inside. The guilt was enormous and I wanted to take revenge on myself by ending all that feeling.

But then I realized that I would be doing the same thing, that I would continue to hurt myself. It was then that I decided to love myself, that I would do what made me happy and that I would stop expecting affection from others.

I would satisfy all my needs myself, because I was enough. I could make myself happy, take care of myself and keep myself safe. I was going to do for myself what no one else had ever done. I started eating again, which wasn't easy.

Sometimes I felt like throwing up, I relapsed a lot, but I didn't give up. I started going out, dressing the way I wanted and seeing the simple things as the most important. And I truly loved myself.

No one was capable of loving me, but I knew that this had nothing to do with me. It wasn't my fault. That's what led me to work on myself, to do more things for myself and to think about my future.

In the meantime, several men came along. Some even meant well, but I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to share myself with anyone. I was taking charge of my life, without the time and space to include someone in it.

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