"Vanesa," the title reads, scrawled in faded marker on the cassette. As the tape plays, it's clear this is no professional shoot. Vanesa, my ex, is alone in her apartment, the camera set up on a tripod. She's biting her lip, her eyes closed, as she grinds against a dildo, her body moving in a rhythm that's all her own. She's lost in her own world, her moans of pleasure filling the small room as she brings herself to orgasm, her body shaking with release.