I sang it to you many times, even when you weren’t there. Someday when I’m lonely, wishing you weren’t so far away, then I will remember things ...e said today *4.I remember the things we said that day. Don’t you? You were there, just like I am now with what’s-her-face, your face buried in my chest fur. My eyes became wet at the memory.“... don’t you think?”Rainie was talking. Or, was it, Blaney? I can’t remember all these new names. Half of them don’t even sound like girls' names anymore. Maybe. At age seventeen, I asked my best friend, "why are all guys so preoccupied with their penises?" After all, the books said semen was produced in testicles, and the penis was merely a delivery mechanism.I never masturbated as a teenager. Trouble is semen still needs to come out, so once every two to three months I woke up with a pyjama full of sticky mess. Then, at twenty-three, a girl came and took matters into her hand. I begged her not to pull back my skin, but pull in forward. More

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