We meet every Wednesday night in hotel room #364. We stay there until morning--kissing, laughing, healing one another. We're both broken people, him with his alcoholic family, me with my murdered one. I don't know who he is; I don't ask for his name. I don't question him. I only love how he makes me feel, how he makes me forget just how alone I am in this world, and for now, that's all I need. ...