I did it. When Sasha and I parted, after two more make-out sessions with our coats already on, had we been wearing polyester it would have caught fire, he left me with his phone number, and hints to next times and future dates. But the emotion I had when Sasha then disappeared, never to be heard from again, was surprise and amusement. Not despair. Not anger. Sasha was the best lover I had in four years, but I wasn’t the same woman as I was four years ago. I’m not even the same as four weeks ago. I’m colder, harder. My heart doesn’t melt that easily anymore. [...]