-Veronica, I wanted to talk to you about the comments you made in class yesterday. They were very insightful.

-Thank you, Professor Sutter.

-Call me Dave.

And so began our affair.

We would always meet after his last class on Wednesdays. In hushed whispers in his office, we shared histories and kisses. He asked me about my past relationships and was understanding when I complained that I had never felt appreciated before. Seeing the kind look in his gray eyes, almost like a caress, I thought I finally knew what love was.

For three years we continued this. I moved out of the campus apartment I shared with a friend to another apartment, one closer to where he lived. I longed to live with him, I wished he had never gotten married.

And I think all lovers share this in common – the same wish to be each other’s first everything, to never lose that spark, even after the phosphorescence of love and lust starts to wear off from other’s touches, even though the canvas of our bodies may not be lily-white.