She was always there. She was the hand I held as I took my first steps, the tear-stained cheek I kissed as I boarded the train for college.There came ... time - I can't tell you precisely - when I began to see her as more, as a woman, a sexual being. What I do remember is this: we were in the library. It might have been after the required "Saturday Night Bath". I was in my standard-issue flannel pajamas and we were curled up together on the sofa. There must have been a less-than-interesting. But I would see you and you would always smile at me. You didn't know me. You had no idea who I was. Still, you were always so nice. I remember standing in line at the cafeteria. My card didn't have enough money on it and I was trying to get to my purse for some cash. Just as I was about to embarrass myself by dumping my tray on the floor, you showed up again. You asked if you could hold my tray or if I needed to use your card. You said it so quietly that no one else heard it. The only thing. More

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