So last night we had dinner with some friends and I realized something interesting. I don’t talk about Greg and my sex life. Ever. Period. I might make jokes saying it doesn’t happen often, but it’s really a diversion to not have to talk about the details. Now you should all know by now that not much is sacred in my life. I’ll talk about having sex with amish people, I’ll talk about my bizarre sexual exploits, I’ll talk about my unusual crazy view of sex, but I respect Greg too much to talk about his junk and the things we do in private to anyone. The reason our relationship is strong and will stand the test of time is because of good communication, a deep understanding of each other, and healthy affection, not because of sex. There are two sides to my sexuality. The unhealthy part mostly a problem because of past sexual abuse and then the tiny kernel of purity that exists between my husband and I. I’m so messed up most of the time and don’t know what’s appropriate and good and I do the wrong thing time and time again, but that has nothing to do with Greg. I hold him inside in a safe little box where all of my problems and destructive behavior can’t hurt him. So sorry if it’s boring that I don’t spill all the details of my sex life with my husband, but in this crazy messed up world something has to be sacred. And besides it’s not respectful of him to talk about his dick in public. No one wants to hear about that anyway.