
My husband and I have been married 16 years. Sweet 16 – and rarely been kissed. Well, that’s not quite true. We still kiss. On the cheek, on the shoulder, on the lips. But we usually don’t use tongue.
And we don’t have sex. Well, hardly ever. Maybe once a month. Maybe. If it’s spring and we’re frisky, once every three weeks. Not including birthdays, anniversaries, New Year’s Eve (if we’re not too pooped after the fireworks).
But guess what?
We are happy. We love each other. We are in love with each other.
We just don’t need to be humping like rabbits or rock stars to show it. (By the way, rabbits might mate for life but they only live for 10 years, and rock star relationships last even less than that).
