"I was so good at seeming fine. Seeming detached. As though the thing between us wasn’t terribly important. As though he himself wasn’t terribly important and never was there a thing more untrue.
If I could go back, if I could do it again, I’d look at him as myself–as my totally naked and in-love self. I’d look at him with all that I felt and all that I could not say.
"