
It Hurts Me Too (Modern Love) by John Higgins
He always comes in wearing a towel, the two edges tucked into themselves to stay up, just below his chest. Water slides down his body, drips onto the floor. I feel he does this on purpose, attempting somehow to make me feel ashamed of my pudginess, my post-sleep sweatiness, contrasting his gym-bought body with my own. Continue reading It Hurts Me Too (Modern Love) by John Higgins