In that moment I realized that not only had we stopped growing together but that I no longer really knew her. The eight years we had spent together were now buried in our separate memories, passionlessly chronicled by photos and other now-meaningless memorabilia. Touching, talking intimately on a daily basis, sleeping together, were now so much confetti fluttering into the void. Someone once said that you only loved once in your life, and perhaps, instead of other women, I had filled the emptiness of Victoria's leaving with the more constant pleasure of wine. She could be a cruel mistress in the morning, but by evening she would always rise and greet me with a welcoming embrace. Bushwhacking my way through life companionless, and often rudderless, it was a relief to know that I, too, could feel desired by someone or something.
rex pickett