The water must be on tide change because there was clouds of sand swirling in small whirlpools and eddies all around the little rock island and there ...idn't seem to be any special direction for the water to run. I knew exactly how it felt, do I run or do I stay? Do I run away or do I face whatever is going to happen and... cope. I'm good at coping, if coping was an art I'd be a Dobell art prizewinner. It might be a good idea to give my beauty, my love, a rational explanation and see if this. At first I thought it was uncharacteristically sweet of him. Henry hadn't been the greatest boyfriend in the world. He was a bartender with no future, extremely possessive and obsessed with sex. Maybe obsessed is too casual of a word. He could go for hours in bed and he belonged to some sort of book group that collected information on the topic. Right before we broke up, he had hung this horrible painting of some alleged Sex God into my bedroom. Right above the bed! How juvenile can you get?. More

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