When he'd picked them up, he didn't know. He'd been in a whiskey soaked haze since he'd heard the door slam behind her. He went to the table and picke... them up now, his heart breaking, tears threatening as he read the words he'd written to her years ago. Words of love and need, of wanting and desiring her more than he'd wanted to breath. His knees gave and he slumped into the kitchen chair staring at the old, lined paper he'd written to her on at night, in his room at his parents house. How. He seemed surprised by my reaction to his touch and removed his hand for a second like a child caught in the cookie jar. I smiled as warmly as I could muster but already I felt myself getting wet. He placed his strong hand around my arm and grabbed my fist. He pulled my arm out straight and made sure that it was good and ready and then he opened his other hand and forced me to punch him in the palm of his hand. “Now hit me like that.” He said and I was eager to please so I punched with all my. More

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