In my fantasies, I am a man. Greg was quick to notice this. Perhaps that's why he invited me one day to piss for him. It became a ritual : I would come up behind him, blindly undo his pants, take out his penis, and do my best to aim well. Then, after the customary shake, I would nonchalantly put it back and close his fly. Shortly after our separation, I asked Greg for a photo souvenir of this ritual. He accepted. So, in a Brooklyn studio, I had him pee into a plastic bucket, in front of the camera. This photograph was an excuse to put my hand on his sex one last time. That evening, I agreed to the divorce.