The Rise And Fall of Desire

Part One: The Dorian Saga

It was my first year post-divorce, and up until that point in my life, I had only ever been in serious relationships. To say I was too immature and innocent to be dating would be an understatement.

I was dumb, and it was dangerous. I needed a handler.

I was also really messed up from my divorce and everything that led to it, so I was drinking a lot. Like, a lot. 

And I was naive and had no inhibitions. Every single time I connected with someone, I believed that it was a real, sustainable connection. In my mind, every man I had a connection with was my potential future husband, so when we would finally meet, I was at least ten steps ahead of reality.

A recipe for disaster.

When I matched with Dorian, a handsome and charismatic artist, I thought I had met my soulmate. He was my type to a T: an unconventional, over-educated, masculine yet sensitive, funny, edgy, somewhat tortured, and definitely lost trust fund baby. He got bonus points for being a surfer and a musician.

Swoon. But also: my ty…