CB and I kept our relationship secret, or at least we didn't tell anyone, preferring, as you do at that age, to let people guess, gossip and find out in their own time. We spent every break from rehearsal in bed, returning to either her or my place in the evening to continue our exploration of each other's bodies until work reared its head again the following morning. It was hedonistic bliss: we talked, drank, smoked and made love until we decided to start the whole cycle again. I was 26, and heaven had arrived on a plate.
One evening, the night before a public holiday, we went for a pizza and spent the time in the restaurant writing erotic messages on each other's hands and arms. At midnight, we decided to go to the railway station and take a train somewhere. The destination didn't matter. The only train leaving Koblenz that night was for Munich, so we decided to go via there to the Bavarian Alps. It was a ludicrous idea, but logic could wait. Curled up in each other's arms we got to Munich at 8am, had breakfast and took a connection to Garmisch-Partenkirchen at around ten. Little did I know, but this day was to be our last together.
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