I arrived inside our apartment to find my husband asleep in bed, my dinner in the warming drawer, and two wineglasses on the counter. One empty, one f...ll. I sat down heavily with my dinner, and as I drank the wine, I stared at his empty glass, musing on what I was doing with my life. It wasn't like I'd blown him off for dinner, and yet...it sort of was. Was this spousal abuse of some kind? I didn't know and was too drowsy to think too much about it.I forgot, clearly, that you aren't supposed to. Her genuine joy over every sexual moment we shared. The way she made me feel so loved and so desired. Her relaxed, unhurried lovemaking. Her seemingly endless sexual energy, which constantly renewed my own sexual energy. Her playful eroticism. Her intelligence and ready wit and her complete charm. Her lack of pretention or game-playing, just total honesty and raw sexuality personified.Brianna and I didn’t leave my bed for the next three days, except to pee and to eat. We never got dressed that. More

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