And anyway, every time is like the first time. That’s the beauty of love. Love erases. I didn’t know the violence of it then—that erasure. I liked the idea of Jude made into a clean slate for me, my touch negating all others’, so sure then I would be the one, the last, to make an indelible mark. I wanted so badly for it to be true. That we might be like two virgins.
