We take our beers, with their creamy thick heads and rich dark color, to a table wedged into a corner. The working-day chatter seems to fade away as w... relax over our drinks and make conversation."I'm a painter," you say, and I can see the self-mockery in the smile that flirts with the corners of your lips. "Excuse me, this is Boston, so I must say- I am an artist." We both laugh, and you suddenly become a different person as you realize I don't care. I'm a librarian, no one special, no one. They warned me, time and again, they told me not to give himanother chance. But did I listen? Well, I did, but Michael can be veryconvincing and, once again he talked me around. It took longer than thefirst time, but I still caved and I still believed him when he told meit would never happen again.By the end of my third year, and the end of Michael's course he hadcheated on me a further three times. I didn't learn my lesson though,every time he did it he managed to convince me to take him. More

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