That makes me sad.

All that I can do is remember. Immediately after my divorce I found a USENET board for divorced Roman Catholics who were the ones who had been left behind. Men and women. I can't remember the entirety of my short message but it was about the little things that I missed. I think that I started it by saying:

It's not really the sex that I miss...

I miss the quick hello and goodbye kisses.
I miss walking in the park holding hands.
I miss returning home from a long run and the taste of her sweat and the grapefruit smell of her underarms.
I miss that we would by two copies of a new book so that we could read it together.
I miss the fact that she was a faster reader.

...on and on.

I had a manic episode that included a long intense hypersexual period. There was nothing graceful about it. For maybe a week, I've been recalling the sex again, from the smooth and gentle to the bloody rough. It was good, particularly when I was in love. I had two bad sexual experiences in my life; the rest were incredible to mindaltering. My first love, pre-teen and beyond, we weren't shy at all; playful, "does this feel good?" "Try this." "Am I hurting you?" "Please pull out in time." "Oh, God, oh, God, oh God!" "You feel so good." "You taste so good."

I couldn't have asked for a lovelier, more exciting, more lovable partner.

I can't remember them all, I can't remember each time with those that I loved. But I can remember more than I thought possible and the joy makes me feel sad now.

"Only love can break your heart,
Try to be true right from the start."
– Neil Young