Contact

I didn't really like the sex at first, but I loved the contact. As time went on though, it was good; the intimacy, the passion, the excitement. When he went astray that time it rather cooled things and touch in any form was irregular and purposeful.

But time is the healer and when it returned, passion was replaced by understanding, reassurance, mutual respect and warmth

He left me again four years ago, but his mistress was not of human form. The contact now is from family and friends and is fleeting. Frailty begets cautious contact. Nobody hugs you at 92.