There are some people you can not wash away no matter how deep you stand in the water and no matter the number of long showers you take. Some people are so unimpressive they simply slide off the surface of my skin barely a memory. Then there are those that leave an imprint so deep it becomes engrave on bone, and you cannot wash bone free of its marks. Should bone break and in time come to heal there is evidence of the injury that remains, so too I carry the proof of those I once loved and that loved me. A secret is never meant to be obvious and worn on the surface for all to see. Slowly, a little every day, I let him take up room deep within to carve a new story of love that will confound even the most brilliant anthropologist long after I am gone should they dig up my bones to read.