"Once you start asking questions, innocence is gone."

As far back as I can remember, and from what stories I've heard told to my friends, I've always been one to ask questions. I've been fascinated by stories of others, and felt as though I really lived through my curiosity. While probably not my earliest question, one I have a rather dim memory of is asking what the strange little wrapped product was, in the bathroom. It was long and cylindrical, and I was quite enamored with what treasures it may hold. I took one to my dad and asked what it might be. "Rabbit bullets," he said, quite seriously. "Put it back." It would be another few years before I didn't fear that any passing bunny might be slaughtered in my bathroom, for that wonder of wonders was actually a tampon. It was a white lie, an innocent one that didn't hurt anyone, and seemed logical, at the time.
That sort of curiosity has stuck with me, all my life. I've always been the one to question the whys and hows of things, though I've never really had the chance or inclination to actually take something apart and find out how it works. I'm much too logical, for that. If I should take something apart and not be able to get it back to working order, I may either get in trouble or have to waste money buying a new thing. Instead of dismantling objects, I dismantled life histories of people long since gone. That's not to say that I tore anyone apart and was left with a shattered view of his or her life, but rather a respect for what I came to understand to be true and logical. Again, with the logic.
While my actresses, divas, stars, and what have you didn't come along until I was 12, I don't recall a time where I wasn't fascinated by someone or something. The first time I remember finding myself with a rather advanced question for a bit of pop culture was when I was 9, and really into The Flintstones. But really, what did Betty see in Barney? Betty was a stone cold fox, could have had anyone she wanted, but there he was. Barney Rubble.
Those kinds of questions gave my mind something to do, and would soon advance, as I got into real people. As I look back, I sometimes wonder if the fascinations and the wonder built me up or tore me down.