She just curls up inside my arms, silently asking me to hold her. To be close to her. To not give her space. No words are exchanged over what I revealed while we made love. I think that’s what we did at least. I’m not even sure I fully know what I admitted. I just did what my body demanded that I do. It wasn’t a premediated act. It wasn’t me trying to be Penis Number Two. It was spontaneous and extraordinary. The last thing I feel before sleep takes me is the sting of tears behind my closed eyes as a painful realisation overcomes me.
