I’m in a dream, trapped in a never-ending dream, where each scene is better than the last; there can be no other explanation but this. That’s why I was able to talk so freely to Gabe even when words threatened to choke me, and things that would usually send me running for cover seemed not so embarrassing, like Gabe seeing me naked or Gabe giving me a bath.
I think part of that came from his own reaction. He didn’t seem as Gabe-like as usual, not his manly bossy self. In fact, he seems almost at a loss as to what to do with me, at least that’s what I thought because surely men don’t give their girlfriends baths or wash them like they’re handling a newborn.
I almost had to tell him that I was not going to break when he washed between my thighs with such reverence, something I was apparently forbidden to do myself at this time. It was the wince that broke me out in peals of laughter after holding it in for so long, but I couldn’t help it this time.