I'llalways love you," he said. By this point both of us had tears in our eyes - but we recoveredafter another hug. I went to the bathroom to go rins... my eyes andthen ended up in my room. I sat on my bed for a second looking aroundmy room before fixating on the large dollhouse sitting in the corner. It had been a gift from Mattel in relation to the Barbie film we hadmade. I had a number of Barbies with it - but hadn't had much of anopportunity to play with them at home. I think I'd maybe. I was too freaking worked up from all of the thoughts in my head and my hand wasnt enough for me. Checking that the coast was clear, I snuck downstairs to the kitchen, found the cucumber in question and snuck back upstairs. Closing the door quietly behind me I turned just in time to see the light by my bed turn on. Brian was laying on my bed and there I was, in my oversized tee-shirt and shorts and holding a cucumber in my hand. He smiled at me holding up my panties. These I believe are yours.. This realization, which would have horrified me as little as a month ago,didn't disturb me in the least. It felt, in some way, profoundly right.That evening, I picked up one of my mother's fashion magazines and tookit into my bedroom to read. I read it as thoroughly as I ever read any ofthe railroad or airplane magazines I ordinarily read. I leafed throughit slowly, taking in the ads...lingerie, dresses, outerwear, makeup, hairstyling, perfumes. I saw pictures of women modelling panties and. I remember pulling out the silverware drawer. I remember pulling out the knife my mother used to cut vegetables when she cooked. Slowly, knife in hand, I walked back into my bedroom. I sat on the floor and leaned against my closet door, something I had done since childhood. I was always afraid of what was hiding in the dark and I thought leaning against the door would keep them from escaping. Slowly, I stretched my left arm out straight. With the knife, I traced the scars of my old wounds. I.