I am driving the same road she drives. The one she comes down and calls me from, telling me how much she wants me. What would I be thinking about if I were her? And I think, him.

He has a deep, reading voice. He is proximate and tactile. He is a semiotic attachment for her. I am once-a-month tops. I am a late-night phone-sex call. I am some kind of a daddy/big brother idea.

That is understandable I suppose. She does need. I knew that all along.