What she saw in his eyes was starvation. Outside of doctor visits, horseplay, and attacks from bullies, he’d not physically touched another human in seven years. He lay in bed at night and fantasized, not about sex but cuddling. He was terrified of actual sexual contact with a woman—afraid of embarrassing himself, disgusted by his own body. As a result, all his masturbation scenarios were unfulfillable fantasies, perfect girls who were enslaved or brainwashed, if not literal cartoons. He was a ball of unfulfilled desire that had congealed into a black sludge of bitter narcissism and petty
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