This time leaving Greece was easier than expected, it felt a bit like a cool compress against feverish skin. I left after having cut ties and placed something in a parenthesis that feels almost outside of time, decisions to me made upon returning -  though of course that is never the case. You can ignore things and put them out of your mind, a trouble to be dealt with afterwards, but the truth is that if you don't make an active choice the choice will be made for you and you will let it be that way. 

  We cut off from each other with him saying he loved me and to be careful, I'm more innocent than I think. I cried for him but I had known all along the inevitability of this and the remembrance of the other guy's hands was always at the back of mind.

  Back in Rome I feel as if this never really happened, none of it was real, I get to leave in the quiet of anonymity for a while more -I'll miss it when I'm gone.

*

  He pinned my hands above my head and came to me like a hurricane, I had realised the calm before the storm but thought I had misinterpreted it for a moment. Since then I keep reliving those moments in my head, it is almost frustrating, I feel like I'm somehow altering them in this way. He knew how to move and how to touch in the way that truly excites me.

  I am amazed at the fact that I slept so soundly by his side afterwards, I can never sleep at the sides of men whom I have had sex with and how easily things flowed. 

  We have not talked since then and his constant question between kisses repeats itself in my ears. 

  "Why did you open the door?"