The previous night I’d quickly said ‘no thank you’. So I guess my silence encouraged her.“We still offer that therapeutic massage I mentioned ...he other night, if you’re interested. It might help you get over whatever illness kept you off work today.”Clever girl. She was giving me cover for saying yes. As I hesitated, she gently tried her best to nudge me over the edge.“It will help your recovery. Help you feel better. Why don’t you go and get ready while I go and get the oils.”She might have. Some of those who wrote made a difference in my life that lasts even today. There are two in particular.One is a woman in California, my age, who taught me that life is NOT over when you are 28 and seemingly out of options. There are plenty of options and lots of fun to be had, and lots of things to be discovered about our personal selves, and our sexual selves. She made me realize I could feel like a young woman, and even dream of becoming a young bride again. All of this because she dared to. But Trevor was one of those intently private persons who could never open up to a stranger and discuss his issues, not even with Becky. Trevor had for a long time laboriously built up strong invisible emotional walls, which he had started at an early age with the passing of his parents when he was young that imparted an early sense of abandonment, then almost the rest of the his immediate family passing by the time he was in his early twenties. His shyness even with his best friends was due to. She got up and put on her robe, thankedme with a kiss on the cheek and went to her room. Mom never mentioned the sexual aspect of her massages,but she was in a real good mood for the next couple ofdays and gave me several hugs and told me what a greatson I was. One evening, right after I had finished ashower, mom called me to her room. She had a robe on andhad just got out of her shower. She asked if I wouldmind giving her a massage. When I started to go set upthe massage table, she stopped me.