The moment I enter Cayden’s home, I know s**t is about to get real.
Usually, Cayden is so guarded, and although he’s still keeping his cards close to his chest, his confliction over what he’s about to reveal is almost palpable. He leads me straight up the stairs and to his bedroom. When he closes the door, sealing us in, I know there is no turning back.
Taking a moment, I remember the safety this room brought me and hope that once this is done, it’ll do so once again. Peering up at the abstract charcoal sketch above his bed, I now see that it’s a naked woman. To the naked eye, one could guess it to be a million other images. But somehow, I know exactly what it’s supposed to be. I’m transfixed by the linework, and the simplicity of being stripped bare this way brings tears to my eyes. But
