The eleventh of September, two-thousand and one, was our one-week anniversary.
We nervously touched one another’s bodies, with no televisions around.
Embarrassed by pre-cum soaking through my beige trousers, I held my jumper over my groin when I met her father.
As we all mingled awkwardly in the kitchen, he indicated at a screen in the corner, and said
‘this is going to be the start of something.’
We went back up to her room. It would be years until I felt it.
- c. h., 11th September 2018
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