Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“I am actually a little surprised you were so eager to send him a photo of yourself. That’s not like you. You tend to be a bit more guarded than that.”
“Not with him. I think it’s a selfish need to let him know that I’m not unattractive—or at least I don’t think I am. I guess I kind of want him to want me. As awkward as I can be around other people, I’m pretty comfortable in my own skin. People have told me that I’m attractive enough times to believe it, even if some of those people were probably just trying to get into my pants.”
“I’m glad you see yourself as beautiful, Luca—as you should, both inside and out. Of course, it doesn’t matter what others think, only what you think.”
While I knew he was theoretically right—it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks—I definitely cared what Griff thought. Maybe a bit more than I should so soon.
“Sometimes at night when I’m bored, I put on makeup and get dressed up for no reason.”
“I would say that’s odd, but I spend half my life having one-sided philosophical conversations with birds.”
“Yeah. You really can’t talk, Doc.” I laughed. “Anyway . . . I get all dressed up with nowhere to go. It’s pretty pathetic. But I get to see what I’d look like if I actually left the house. I take a few photos. I clean up nicely.”
“You know you’re giving me a great idea for one of your next exposure exercises, right?”
“Let me guess. You’re gonna make me get dressed up and actually go out and be around people, aren’t you?”
“Yes. And I know just the place we’ll go.”
I should probably be concerned. “Great.”
Finally, nestled into my comfy spot on the couch with a hot cup of tea by my side, I began to write back to Griffin.
Dear Griffin,
I actually had to look up what genophobia is. At first, I thought you were referring to being a germophobe, which I certainly am not, considering I live with a pig! (I do keep her as clean as possible, although show her a pile of mud and all bets are off. Her true piggish tendencies come out.)
Am I a genophobe? No. I love the idea of sex, of opening myself up to someone like that—I guess opening myself up literally and figuratively. :-) It can be a little scary, but not to the point of a phobia. My sexual experiences haven’t exactly lived up to the potential I believe possible with the right partner, though. In other words, I haven’t had the mind-blowing sex that probably exists. At least, I hope it exists. I’m still waiting to experience it.
That leads me to answer your first question, which I basically just did. Did I finally have sex? Yes—but not until I was twenty. It took me a while to start dating after the fire. I ended up losing my virginity to a guy I’d met through a support group for people affected by the fire. Michael had lost his cousin. After one of the sessions, we ended up going to his car to talk and one thing led to another. He hadn’t a clue I was a virgin. Anyway, it was quick and painful. And incidentally, leather against a bare ass is not the most comfortable feeling. He stopped going to the meetings soon after and that was the end of him. Not exactly the “first time” story that dreams are made of. Then again, neither was yours. I’ve had two other partners since then who were nothing to write home about—or nothing to write my pen pal about. It wasn’t all their fault. It takes two to tango, and I just don’t think I let myself go to that place of vulnerability you probably need to in order to get lost in someone else. Do you have any pointers for me in that arena?
So karaoke . . . I’ve only done karaoke once but found it to be way more enjoyable than I’d ever imagined, even though I was alone in my living room with only Hortencia watching. I might have been a little drunk, sort of like you were when you first reached out to me again. (That was the best drunken decision anyone has ever made, by the way.) Okay, see? I’m stalling because I’m a little hesitant to tell you that my all-time favorite song to sing karaoke to is: (Drumroll) “Fernando” by ABBA! Then again, you might have guessed I would have chosen an ABBA song if you remembered anything I ever said in our dozens of letters.
I saved the hardest of your questions for last. It seriously took me all day to figure out how to answer this because it’s honestly a huge moral dilemma for me. While I no longer eat it, I LOVE bacon. I spent many years proclaiming it my favorite food: eggs and bacon, bacon bits, bacon-wrapped scallops. The craving just doesn’t go away overnight because you become the adoptive mother to a pig. The fact that my mouth is salivating now kind of sickens me. So I feel about bacon sort of how I feel about a lot of things in life. I stay away from it, but I can’t help the fact that I like it. (Sort of like porn, maybe?) Of course, as I write this, Hortencia is staring at me and I feel like Hannibal Lecter.