I was awake from the first time you touched me. I wasn't asleep after that. And you know what? I liked it too. I liked the way you were touching me... And I thought you knew that I was awake. Didn't you know that I was awake?" "No … uh uh." We were quiet then, as I just let her words sink in. I was relieved. But now I wanted to ask her something. I started to a number of times, but the words just did not come out. She just sat next to me, rubbing my hand and comforting me. Then I. Heleft rather quickly, let down by my lack of interest in all the things hehad to say about the wonders of Earth-worship.In the throes of this illness, suspicion marked my psyche. I doubted somany presumptions, but never the meaningfulness, to me, of my personalpractice of cross-dressing. Transvestitism has always been a kind ofperformance art in which, in my case, I'm both performer and viewer,fashion designer and runway audience; though all of this seems to stressthe visual, whereas, in my. More

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