‘And I decided to do the garage.’ He sat next to me, pulling the sheet across his lap, and turning me to face him. ‘Sweetheart, I love you. With...every fiber of my being, but I just- I don’t think I’m…wired right, to love you physically.’ he said haltingly. ‘But what just happened- I have never wanted you more.’ Hope filtered into me, and I smiled a little. ‘I didn’t want to lose you. Since I’m not able to satisfy you as me, I became someone who could.’ I murmured. ‘Oh baby.’ he pulled me in for. To him the spoken and written word was a feast of complex intellectual delights. Studying linguistics gave his existence direction and purpose. It shielded him from the messiness of relationships with his fellow humans. It filled his hours and his days and provided him with everything he needed. Almost everything.He was lonely.He craved human touch. He needed the touch of a woman as a thirsty man needs water. He was slowly withering away in his abstract wonderland of intellectual delights.Then. More

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