"No, it was the way you did it." I glared at him. "You acted like I was something that you scraped off your shoe, like I was beneath you. Like, no way...were you going to stoop to going out with the school slut."His mouth dropped, and he gaped at me. "We have a serious misunderstanding." I just looked at him. "I didn't think any of that, ever." He looked down. "I turned you down because I was terrified." What?" I gasped."Remember. I just told you Tara was my first time. That was the beginning of. It consumes me, abandons me, beckons me,saddens me, disappoints me, arouses me. But, then, a breakthrough: arealization. Love is an idea; it is not real. Nothing we think orfeel--especially feel--is real.Only the moment is real. The now. The incident and the event are real,but only as long as they happen, for memories, also, are unreal.Very well. Let me explain. Perhaps an example will help. My breasts arereal when their weight is in my hands--or yours. They have density, then;they are. More

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