No one will read this, but I think that's best.My life is starting to matter, and that terrifies me. Abby said she wanted to be a tree, to blossom and be pounded by rain, and let her stringy roots anchor herself in the ground. How poetic of her. But that is not for me. What I want is to be needed by another human being. I want him to desire the valley of my hips, the arc of my back, the mane of my...