I talked with my husband about writing about St. Paul’s. It would expose me, I said. It would expose him. It would plant in the world these words (herpes, slut, rape) associated with my name, and these events for our children to discover. Their friends, their communities. Our community. Would it salt the fields? How large was the danger of regret? My husband had been waiting for my question. “Love,” he said, “you want to know what I think?” I did. He held me and said, “Burn it all down.”
