I won’t tell you his name, not because I want to protect his identity, but because I simply cannot remember it; perhaps due to trauma or maybe simply because I’ve got a rotten memory.

Anyhow, my injuries were many, though only the ones on my knees were visible.

He worked down the street and often came in for a drink after work. I had no idea he had a thing for me until that night, when he decided to tell me, I suppose due to my having been so upset with the guy I’d been seeing.

He waited for me to close the bar and took me to a nearby park, where the shots I’d had before leaving started to hit me.

It was cold and I was running, needing some air and to feel free but when he caught up with me and started kissing me it felt nice and I chose to stop thinking and just went with the moment.

Before I knew it I was on top of him and he was inside me. I didn’t feel the gravel below my knees or the cold air on my body.

I woke up with a terrible hangover, bleeding knees embedded with gravel and lots of regret.