At first, you and I were virgins-at least to each other. We hadn't even kissed! We were like teenagers in a borrowed bed, nervous as hell and clumsy. We were new snow, no footprints. Ready to get dirty. All of me was strange: my breath and my eyes, my lips, my hips, my hands, and my thighs. You didn't know what to touch. The proximity of discovery made you delirious, and that made me delirious. But nights turn into days, and it all turns into years. We became familar-isnt that what happens? We do our dirty laundry. We snore. We bleed. We fight. You finish my sentences, and I read your mind. Believe me I loved laying myself out for you that first time. Shivering on the bed, as open as the night is long, as scared as I was. Let me do that again. The French actor Jean-Louis Barrault said you have to wake up a virgin each morning. Good Morning.