This feeling of being emasculated was enhanced bywhat Sarah had done to my trousers and was doing to my wardrobe..I felt powerless.It was like I was b...ing fucked.I couldn't do anything about it.I had no will of my own and had become a spectator of my own life. Itwas no longer about what I was doing, but what was being done to me.These are classic symptoms of depression or the blues.As I sat there waiting for the kettle to boil, Sarah came into thekitchen."John, you know that when you dress as. As I walk by I watch her through the sides of my eyes, pleased that she is watching me. From a distance I turn and look back at her, she has returned to her reading. I sit down and drink in the sight of her. Finally I get to see the woman who has affected me so deep. She is a vision. Quietly reading, pausing occasionally to watch the people walking by below her sanctuary. Once, she looked towards me and I my heart soared as she met my gaze and a small smile danced on her lips before she turned. More

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