I was dating this girl, Jessica, for 2 years and really loved her. I was also working in the NYC clubs and had a lot of temptation from other women. So I cheated, felt guilty and broke up. Then I went on a run of banging a lot of girls but still had some feelings for Jess. She showed up at the club a few times with her friends, got drunk and made a scene. One night though when Jess made a scene, I said 'alrightâ€¦.let's go.' We went back to her place and I fucked her hard with no emotion, hoping she'd hate me. But it turned her on and it was great sex. The next morning it was awkward. She asked me to go to New years party with her. I did and we got back together. For the next 6 months it was like we never broke up. We talked about moving in together, getting married, etc. One night we were walking home from a bar and some drunk in the street tried to hit her. I beat the shit out of him pretty bad. I could tell Jess was happy to be protected but I saw a flicker in her eye that I was still a little wild. We never spoke of it. I was broke and finishing up college while working (post USMC) and she graduated and was looking for work. We were eating in a diner and out of the blue she said that she was taking a job out of state. I was like 'ok.. I'll finish up school this year and join you.' She said no, it is over, she wanted to start a new life. Even though I didn't show it, I was devastated. I called in sick to work at the bar, rented "Roadhouse" and watched it over and over the whole weekend. I don't know why it helped but it did. I took my mind off her and stopped feeling sorry for myself. I saw her a year later in a bar back in the city. She was engaged to a doctor. I was glad because I wasn't ready for all that. I still have a pair of scissors she stole from work right here in my desk drawer, decades later.