When I got to your aunt’s apartment on University, I remember how happy you were to see me, even though most of your face, of your body, was covered by the cast-iron façade of the door. I was late and I felt badly, and I tried so hard to make my voice sound convincing when I told you that I’d missed you. I made sure you didn’t kiss me, didn’t reach for my hand until we were inside the apartment, since there was someone in the elevator with us.
Your aunt’s sheets were rosy and satin, and it smelled like expensive potpourri. Inside my head I was screaming, I was nervous, I hated myself for coming. You were so happy, you were always so happy. You didn’t even try to hide it. I…
View original post 1,184 more words