Give or take, I may have lost count. I left behind so much – a workshop full of tools, collections of books, things hanging on walls, friends – an... told myself that a new, expensive, fancy computer would make up for it. My early days in New York were long, and so I’d get home late, order take-out, pour a glass of wine, and ‘talk’ to people – chat, as the evening grew long. Most of the conversations were idle chit-chat – somehow appropriate for virtual chat rooms populated by people with silly. The ride home was quiet. I was upset, but it was my own fault; I kept letting her get away with disrespecting me."I thought you wanted to dance with me," she said, finally as I turned on to our street."Yes, but well, you..." I started."Don't you go blaming me for you not being around," she said. "I told you I would dance with you, and you just disappeared. It's your own fault." I took her words as a sign that I should just shut up and not say anything.She looked over at me. I guess she thought. More

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