This is not really a love confession on my part, but rather my two bits worth. My wife and I have been married for almost thirty-six years and most of it has been very sweet. The only bad thing happened at the beginning of our eighth year of marriage. I came home from work one day to find a note on the table and her gone. The note said she was leaving with another man she had met at our church, of all places. The next two weeks were pure hell for me not knowing anything. Then, I got a call from her asking if she could come home, or if I wanted or needed a divorce. She came home and we got into some counseling. It helped some, but I had to move us out of the area. The hatred inside of me became so severe for this other man that I was ready to do something stupid. We had to move, and we did go two states away. It's been about twenty-eight years and I still can get the bad feelings if I let my mind go that way. One of the hardest parts is that even after all these years; my wife still will not talk about what happened. I have learned the hard way not to bring it up anymore. So, I guess the morale of the experience is to please have fun and enjoy sex, but be aware of the innocent others.