The Priest in my theology class said that the Bible claimed that real love was being willing to sacrifice your life for someone else.
I guess that means that I never really loved Francis.
I met Francis when I was fifteen. He was two years older than me and he was my mentor, my guide to my new school. My parents thought it was a good idea for me to go to a Catholic school in the north of Spain; my English father liked the idea of a three year diploma over the GCSEs and A levels of the English school system and my Spanish mother liked the idea of me being in Spain. Both of them agreed the Catholic school would prevent me from being caught on my knees sucking a guy's cock like I'd been caught doing a few weeks before. This last reason may have been the real reason.
*This isn't a happy story about someone who finds their soulmate. This is a dark story and it is anything but nice. You have been warned.*