Day 94: No return

I want to tell you about the first time I let a woman touch me. About how she asked me if she could and I said yes and she did.

I want to tell you because it’s one of the few memories I have in my head that’s perfect, that I wouldn’t change a thing about. Leave me just as awkward and as unprepared as you find me. Keep the tempo and the volume just so.

I want to tell you because I want you to know just how sweet she was. How she could tell I was scared and asked my permission not once but twice. How, as she reached for me, I lost track of where she was and where I was — until suddenly I was in her hand, and it was cold and pure and singular, like spring water falling to splash on stony ground.

(This is Day 94 of a 100-day project. For more about When I Was Mormon, read the introductory post. To access older posts, visit latest stories and scroll down.)