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My wife got in last night a little before midnight. She wanted to “unwind”. For her, this means watching crime drama TV shows, where people get murdered or disappear. De gustibus non disputandem. (There is no disputing matters of taste.)

I chill with her for the night. I know it’s just fiction, but still killing as entertainment doesn’t do it for me. I have a rather exhaustive knowledge of the wars of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries and the more I learn about killing, the more repulsed I am. It is truly the stuff of nightmares; so a TV show that ends in murder by blunt force trauma won’t send me to dreamland.

So now I sit. It is almost 1300 Hours (1:00 PM) My eyes have yet to adjust to wakefulness, I need to sleep some more. The pain of life without a physical, sexual lover, the platonic Hell, if you will, seizes me fully. How she lives as she does is a mystery to me, Yet I persist, because the other expressions of love are powerful also, perhaps more powerful than Eros.