From his first daring comment in Civics class, I knew we would get along just fine. I was even more intrigued after that bus ride when he opened his umbrella to me in hatred of the sun. So casual and open even from the beginning, he was the only one who made me feel comfortable with living in that desert-dry shithole! He was my best friend- it was as simple and complicated as that. Back then, every time my pet name 'Potter' would escape his lips, my eyebrows would crinkle with offense and then relax once I realized it was meant to be endearing. I grew more used to it and ever since that epiphany of mine, the name has sent chills down my spine. I hear him say it and feel my knees start to buckle before I melt entirely.

They say that love makes you crazy and I agree with that statement very much. I'm crazy about Boris, but in my own special way. Not the typical head over heels way, but more in the "you drive me crazy, but I can't get enough of you" kind of way. At first, I thought it was just a fling, what we had, and in some ways, it was, but we also suppressed it and bottled up any feelings we may have had for each other then. We could hardly remember what happened the night before, let alone between us. It was all a little bit of a blur, but a euphoric one at that.

We could not have been more different, but I guess it as they say: Opposites attract. And while his life was always troubled from the start, mine started off well and then started to deteriorate like the destruction of a bomb, and at the same time, by the destruction of a bomb. We had both dealt with our own personal pain and I guess that was one way that we were one and the same. In that sense, we had a lot more in common than we thought. And that was why we could coexist together so easily and naturally.

Boris showed me another side of myself, a wild side. He always pushed me out of my comfort zone and was so spontaneous! You never knew what he was up to or what he was going to do next...Unless it was drugs, something which he always seemed to fall back on. They were his go-to, and mine for that matter. I'll admit, I'm a bit of an addict myself, but he was the real drug I couldn't quit. Sure, Boris was always getting into all kinds of trouble, but he meant well, I knew he did, deep down.

You see, he had the charisma of a fox, a charm you couldn't penetrate. He was a peculiar little rascal, that was for sure...Tricky like Rumplestiltskin, he made lots of deals and promises he couldn't keep, but he never let me down. He would stop at nothing until he made things right and okay again, both in general and between us. And with Pippa on the brain, I was blindsided, but when I felt most alone, he was there and I realized all of the things about him that I took for granted. Those moments I would never forget, the ones I looked back on with a smile no matter how many times he screwed me over, and despite it being a time when I thought I had hit rock bottom. We were always getting into all kinds of crazy antics, the two of us. If we were anything, it was a bad accident waiting to happen, one that only a mad scientist could cultivate, but that goes for most of us crackheads.

It was then that I realized he was always there, in the back of my mind, waiting to come out again. And maybe it was time, to come out...To come to face with who I really was. With Pippa, it felt like fate. I adored her and we had a special connection that I couldn't shake, but with Boris, it felt different. It felt right for something many saw as wrong. And I had always hated him for not coming to New York with me, but I couldn't stay mad at him. Instead, I lingered over that kiss, revisiting it whenever I was in that headspace. Who knows! Things might not have worked out between us in the end if it wasn't for that period of separation. And now, here I am, recounting the tales of me and my lover, an old flame that never died…