I still did not fully realize that I had lost Andy for good. My mind refused to accept that. But I fully realised remembering the look on his face and...the tears in his eyes, that I had hurt him badly. I had not noticed that at all last night as I left to go to Mike’s room. It took me over three hours for the normal two hours drive home. Every so often I started to cry again. A lot more for the pain I had caused Andy than for my lost. I still refused to accept the fact that I had lost him. I had. That's not exactly true, though. It wasn't things, plural, I needed to keep myself from thinking about. But thing, singular. Thing as in fist, for example. The thought of Ann's fist inside me was ... well, frightening. OK, maybe not exactly frightening but very, very unsettling. I've heard of that, but so far I had thought that's something only porn stars do. But then again, they shove all kinds of stuff up their pussies, as far as I know. Which is not very far. Anyway, I wasn't a porn star and. More

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