I felt the impulse to confess that I was another person – to protect her from my glance and my

feelings. But it never took me long to decide it wouldn’t be smart to miss this rare opportunity

life was offering me: to take in the everyday world with fresh gaze, one free of wear and tear,

of any hint of innocence.

I took pleasure in kissing the fabric that had frayed slightly with the rubbing of her inner thighs

and in running my fingertips across the part of her bras that came closest to her underarms.

sometimes I would get into bed with one of her belts and play with it until reaching a state of

delirium that probably made my recovery slower than the doctors predicted.