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"I saw that. What piece?"
"The one that played during the scene when they have to cut the young man loose and let him drown."
He nodded. "I remember that." He said nothing for a moment. "Gorecki, Barber. Williams. Awfully depressing music you like."
"It makes me actually feel something."
"Yes, but incredible sadness…"
"It's better to feel sadness than nothing at all."
He turned to me. "You don't feel anything unless it's sad?"
"Not for a long time. Not after my mother died."
He just stared at me, and then I hated myself for mentioning her.
"You were ill after you returned from Africa."
I nodded, not wanting to talk about it.
"Tell me."
I shook my head, forcing a smile I didn't feel. "I didn't cry when she died," I said. "I felt nothing. It was like everything just shut off and I couldn't feel anything. My doctor said everyone grieves differently, but how could I not cry? I just went through the motions, day in and day out."
He squeezed my hand.
"Then you went to Africa?"
I took a sip of wine. "Yes," I said, remembering. "I tried to keep busy. I think I was in denial. So I went to Africa even though I probably shouldn’t have. I didn't cry until Mangaize. Then it was like I couldn't stop." I turned to him. " Why could I cry for complete strangers and not my mother?"
"You were crying for yourself."
I nodded. "I was. I didn't think I deserved to feel sorry for myself. But those people in the camps? They deserved it."
We sat in silence for a while and I felt so bad, talking about my depression. "Sorry to be such a downer."
He shook his head quickly. "No," he said and smiled softly. "Don't be. I asked.
I snuggled into his arms. There seemed to be no barrier at all between us anymore. I couldn’t imagine being any closer to a man than I felt at that moment with him.
That Thursday night, as we lay in bed afterwards and Drake was wiping me off with a warm wet cloth, I asked him about going to a fetish night.
"You want to go?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, watching him, enjoying his aftercare, not as drunk as I was on Tuesday night. "When I read about them, I always wanted to go."
"Voyeuristic are you?"
"Maybe. I don't really know yet. I don’t think I'm an exhibitionist. The thought of people watching me makes me a bit queasy."
"I'll keep that in mind but you have to know that people who host these events sometimes host play only parties where you have to do something."
"Like what? I don't want to have sex in front of people."
"We'd have to do something. I might tie you up, blindfold you, demonstrate some bondage, that kind of thing just so no one complained."
I cringed a bit. "I don't know…"
