I know the truth. I guess that is all that matters. That white one shouldered dress, that clung tightly to my hips, like a woman to her lover. I know the truth. Maybe that dress had been removed, but nothing was given away. Dispite common belief. Even through a thick haze of drugs and alcohol, I know the truth. "It doesn't matter what anyone says or what they think" That's what I tell myself. But I know, with the wholeness of my being, that I care. I am not a ****. I was younger then, not by much, but younger. And I didn't know that you could turn me into something used and tainted, frowned down upon by others. I didn't know that your few words and a mischievous grin could turn me into something I am not. But I knew the truth.