Fear is a place I’ll never go again
Before Steve and I married, there were moments that have now become seared in my memory where he said something, I felt something, and yet we went on as if nothing had happened. One of these moments happened right after we had had sex in his bed on the floor, on Mason Street, with the foggy light of the San Francisco summer, and the noise of the trolley clanging its way up the hill. “I…