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She saw Donald last night, for their sixth date, and it looks as though that’s definitely leading somewhere. After walking her home, I gave her a tentative peck on the cheek goodbye when we reached the entrance to her building. I was happy when, in response, she put her arms around me and gave me a big hug and kiss.
I was driving down University Drive on my way to Hollywood when a bulletin interrupted a radio call-in show: first they announced “a malfunction” aboard the space shuttle, and then an explosion. I felt sick to my stomach as I heard the news. At the credit union, someone had brought out a TV set and people were watching it numbly.
In the bedroom, I put on the TV, but we didn’t pay much attention to it. We hugged and kissed and fondled and tickled and wrestled and did everything but intercourse, and we stopped only because we both decided we didn’t want to go that far. Still, sex isn’t just intercourse, it’s intimacy, and I have no complaints at all about tonight.