He smiles, and opens his arms for a quick hug, as if I really was just a friendly acquaintance, and my heart almost stops. He smells and feels exactly...the same. “Hi! How’ve you been?” What a scintillating conversationalist I’ve become! “Well. Yourself?” He’s twinkling at me again, as always, amused at my sad attempts at normal social interaction and my denial of the blatantly obvious. “You’re here for the conference again,” he continues, making it a statement rather than a question. No denying. So, without further ado, I will relate the details as follows: Let’s say I’m in my later forties. It is an out an out lie, but for the sake of my ego, please bare with me. I have been married to the same woman since I turned 19. You do the math, but it equates to very many years. During this time, we have managed to produce a couple of kids, bring them up and got shot of them as they branched out on their own. I could not, hand on heart, say that I have been exactly faithful all this time. I. More

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