I wish I could remember more of those days; memory is so funny. I can remember somethings perfectly, as if they were happening right now: the settings... the tone of her voice, the way her hair was combed. Some of the things I remember are contradicted by the emails I kept; sometimes they are so different from my recollections that it almost seems one of them was fabricated. One of the was fabricated: my memories, changing as time passed. Telling this story has been a constant questioning of. That was the start of our relationship. We would meet for breakfast, go to class together, arrange to study together, and in the evening workout together. I was amazed at the strength she possessed. Watching her work the heavy bag, her muscles straining with each punch, her skin glistening with sweat, I couldn't help getting aroused. After our workouts, we would shower and go back to her place, sometimes just to hang on the sofa, talk with Karen, or watch TV, or more often than not we would. More

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