And I'm very sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me. You are everything I have ever wanted, but for some reason touching you leaves me blank. I feel nothing. And I am sorry.
Swimmers. Groping each other, intimately, through the distance of a lane rope. The lady, with three children, touched, my thigh, and I brushed past the man, who's five times my age, his hands, soft, and embracing. But it's okay. Because I'm drowning.