And I suppose it'sirrelevant now anyway. The girl that happened to... well she never existeddid she?" You know that's not true," I refute instantly. "...ho we were still liveson in us. It might seem convenient to detach ourselves from the past,but I'm not sure it's healthy."Was this the right thing to say to him though?Should I let him dissociate from the girl he once was to allow him somepsychological protection? It seemed like a pathological course ofaction; but I had never encountered the. The back window was covered with stickers for surf shops and skateboards.He was often outside working on that thing, and that’s what drew my attention, because when he did so he was usually clad in a wife beater and a pair of cargo shorts that nevertheless hugged his ass. What a fine ass it was, too, a perky little thing that always seemed to fill out whatever he was covering it with. He was a small guy, maybe 5-7, with dirty blond flyaway hair that hung down to his neck, usually held in place. More

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