I returned to my room and picked up another one of Gaia"s letters. This one was dated September 4, 2006. Not very long ago.
My journey into the past – was it still “our” past – had become more difficult and scary for me. I knew too little about her; I thought back to that day in July 2004 when I resolved to ask Gaia about her life. Worried that I would ask too much, I deferred some of the questions. I wanted to keep our time together one of intimacy and fun, not a search for real-life experiences or the unburdening of secrets or family stories.
But now I wondered if I had asked too little. I even wondered whether my failure to be inquisitive had convinced her that I wasn"t really interested in a long-term relationship.
That thought made me shiver. Had my careful act of keeping things si
