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How many hours did we grow cramped in hard kitchen chairs, together, long after midnight, pretending we didn't know how late it was?

It wasn't much longer that the conversations were on the couch, then in your bed. Our bodies were shy in the beginning but our words never were. I like to think you made my words larger and more healthy, that telling them to you, letting them crystallize from thought to something real hanging in the air, made my stories count for more, made them absolute, if only in your mind. Your mind was what mattered.

You gave me your attention; I took it; I was thrilled. Later, you would apologize for not giving me enough, and for the first time, nothing I said could convince you.
