Chapter Twenty

Sandy's journal, Sun. 24 Sept. '06

I am going to sleep for a solid week. Poor Ted, those brown contact lenses had him teary-eyed until I convinced him that his hair-dye deception was enough! I could convince myself that all this was entirely a stratagem toward marriage. But no lies in these pages. Liked it so much it scares me — but only because the illusion of sex without love was an illusion, and one that we discarded during the night. Perhaps if he did not give up male domination so easily, I would like the illusion less. And will he still like it, after sober reflection?

We did not talk as we usually do — but why should we? Often, words between lovers are slaves of the poor, a few doing the work of many, doing it tiresomely, over and over. This may be a blessing, since it sometimes bids us hush. It is only then that we can hear the silence filled with the sibilance of unspoken yesses.

Mutual oral sex may be the most profound communion of all, if for no better reason than that our tongues are silently occupied!

God, I miss him already…

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