As much as I like to pretend it wasn’t the case, once upon a time, I was in love with my father’s oldest friend. It wasn’t a crush, or infatuation, or some kind of youthful obsession. I wish it had been, maybe then I would have recovered from it, but no. Facts are facts, and the fact is that by the tender age of eighteen, I was head over heels in love with a man I couldn’t have.
