But when he said he loved me, I realized I just wasn't ready, so I ended it.
For the first week, I wasn’t able to make any pictures outside of the clichés - Saudis shopping in malls and women in abayas on the street.
With the approval of my host father, I threw on an abaya, the black robe worn by Saudi women, and headed out.
(We figured I'd be safe, given an unspoken rule that Westerners aren't subject to the same restrictive laws and harsh punishments as Saudi women.) My curfew was 10 p.m.
But with Yaser, there could be nothing of the sort.
And the little pleasures seemed all the sweeter for being so hard-earned.