The next few months after Yongsun's return were - by far - the best of my life. Apparently Yongsun had taken a rigid stance regarding our "relationship."

              However, Yongsun had not made our commitment to others, let alone introduced me to his family - claiming that they were all dead (which was no escape from reality) and that his only living relative was a cousin who lived near. the east coast of town (actually Kim Taeyeon lived five blocks from my house) - and was strangely possessive.

               On the other hand, and in keeping with the inept mask of truth, I loved her enough to accept her madness and the stigmata of possessiveness. The times we loved, or bestowed, were the most special of all in my day; being able to feel his hands slide smoothly and precisely through me (as if he wanted to memorize every corner of my body and the texture of my skin), or even delight me by touching our tongues through a daring kiss that would soon lead us to. the couch, or my bed. Kim Yongsun had become my particular sin, where I was subjected to the most delicious torture and to keep his name for my release.

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Yongsun, at some point in our relationship, had decided that sending letters would be an important device to bind me to her (even if I already did), in this she had filled me with romantic letters and beautiful poems, some still below. my be