On the first day of my new class (already halfway done now) we did some kind of ice-breaker I don't remember, and someone asked if anyone had streaked the lawn (which is something One Does, at UVA, at least so I have been led to understand.) And I didn't say anything, although I have (and more than once).

Remembering that makes apparent all the difference between being naked and being revealed--how flesh is a mask, how a single word can operate like a drill right to my heart--all of that distance compressed in my chest and it's suddenly terribly sad to think of what everyone else in the room wasn't saying.