We talked as if we had known each other forever, with no awkward silences or miscues. We didn't dwell much on the current crisis, but our conversation...carried us everywhere, leaping from one subject to another like a word association test on steroids.We talked about literature, and she revealed a fascination with poetry: Wallace Stevens and Emily Dickinson, an unlikely pair indeed. I mentioned my own fondness for Pablo Neruda, and recited "Tonight I Can Write," for her. We talked of politics,. Something like this would be normal for a couple. But I was still thinking of this as just a sexual thing. We could act friendly at other times, but it was the sex that mattered. Cooking for me was just too weirdly domestic.She eventually met my eye again, glancing occasionally at the food. She opened her mouth to speak, then looked away again.She seemed to have been really affected by my attitude earlier. Even when I’d been angry with her in the past, she hadn’t reacted like this.. More

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