I'll never forget the look on mother's face when I came home and told her I was in love with an older man. I was 9, he was 10 and looked like a mini version of Jude Law, always with a silk scarf carefully wrapped around his boyish neck. I left secret lipstick kisses (Guerlain Rouge Automatique) on the door of his locker and watched his reaction from behind a corner.
He walked me home from school once, it was late and he asked me if I was afraid of the dark. I don't remember what I said but we came to spend a lot of our time together like that, in the dark, listening to Rolling Stones albums on his bed, driving around in his car, taking long walks through the woods surrounding our summer house.
He fell in love with me and I pushed him away, years later when we met again I started calling him Carl. He never asked me why but I think he understands. Our history is a minefield and there are so many things I still want to ask him.