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13 July 2019 I phoned the Brit. He was at a busy pub at the time and told me to call him around the same time tomorrow.
At 14 July 2019 15:35 GMT I phoned the Brit. He was at home. I told him I just wanted say I hoped he was well.
He said he was well and thanked me, then he paused and said, "Our relation really didn't have much going for it. We had a few good spots, I suppose. I just want to move on and let the memories fade. I want no contact with you. I don't want to hear from you again."
I told him I thought we more had much more than a few good spots and began listing them. Every episode of our BDSM power exchange, fierce cock play, erotic hypnosis, bondage and restraint, hypnotic body control, bodily fluid exchange, sensory play, every kink, every fetish, every public showing off of hypnosis, our hypnotic fantasies that would make most people's hair curl, meeting each other's friends, exploring our cities, making new friends at pubs, my pride at introducing my fiancé, our pride at his hypnocon presentation, working out his dalliance with the Boot Pup together, happily traveling over 5,000 miles to see each other, accepting each other's mental illness, how spot on our Christmas gifts were, his face when I'd make him breakfast, getting wistful watching an elderly gay couple at the mall, How good it felt to sleep next to a man who would be there in the morning.
The Brit said, "I need a year."
I wished him well and said goodbye.