I continued to write, ending my thoughts and words most nights as: I remain, Your Sandman The last time I spoke with her, I knew within my heart that ...t probably was the last time I would. Neither of us made mention of it, or discussed it in any way other than her last words to me to always remain The Sandman. As I feared, several days passed nearing well over a week when I finally wrote her, a simple email, a simple question. ‘Karen? Are you ok? I remain, The Sandman.’ Days passed. Then to my. There are more than most men would imagine. It was after work. Ifelt tired, aching. But I was exhilarated. I browsed over thedifferent packages, rubbing shoulders with other women, exchangingglances. "Are we all menstruating?," I wanted to ask. It wasbizarre things like that that I wanted to say. I chose a box of tampons like my girlfriend used. I bought my ownpain relievers too. I carried them, obvious, in my basket up to thecheckout. The girl swiped the bar codes and put them in my. More

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