He sounded different. I should have thought of a better way to say it than I had. I laughed on the phone too much. Like I thought this was all a joke--when I had been deeply shaken by it in the back of my mind for a while. But it's over. I feel less mature for some reason. Like he's older than me and more experienced in life. But he's not. I guess what I'm saying is I feel immature. And I can picture his face. And the way he moved over me. But I like to picture us walking, myself on the sidewalk, him on the street. The way I leaned on him, the way he held me up. The way we smiled and laughed and kissed. Thank God I never have to even think about living with him or that night forever though, now.