In his last letter to me Frank wrote that he'd known that us sleeping together would probably end our friendship for reasons he "wouldn't enumerate." It's funny, I was the one who foretold the end. The first time is always a mistake. It happens because it does. It's not planned, you're in a private place, you're alone together, you're drunk. And it was good, it was better than good.
Afterward, you have to deal with the fallout. What did it mean, did it mean anything? It meant something to me, but then again he always had, but I decided that this time I'd simply pretend that it didn't. I told him I didn't want to break up my marriage, which was true. I didn't want to break up my marriage for someone who drove me crazy but whom I didn't seem to drive crazy. I told him I wanted to keep sleeping with him. He was OK with that.
Frank is not much of lover, but he turned me on, that helped a lot. He could be a fantastic lover if he wasn't so insecure, and I could perhaps have helped him with that if I wasn't so insecure myself. The only time I tried to tell him how my body works, what I have to do to reach an orgasm, he closed his eyes and pretended he wasn't there. To deal with the embarrassment he said this how he always acted, eyes closed, silent. It's not true, of course. I waited for him to react to the things I'd told him, but he said nothing. I asked him jokingly to say something reassuring, but he was uncomprehending. I never tried talking about my orgasms again. I did what so many other women do, I got my kicks out of focusing on his instead.
I knew it would be bad idea to have a sexual relationship with him, though, just based on the fact that I don't talk to any of the men I have slept with in the past, except one. Relationships don't end well for me. That could possibly have something to do with me, or the men I choose to attach to.
I told him it would break our friendship, or my marriage, or both. Frank didn't see why. In a way his was right, it was the end of sex that did us in. That's when I decided it had to be enough. I took a hard look at things as they stood and I realized that the sex was good, sometimes even awesome, but the friendship was horrible, I was tiptoeing around Frank's ego and need to always be right and in control of every situation to the point of humiliating me. Without the sex there was nothing there. It wasn't worth it anymore.
I tried to end the sex once, because I was supposed to be at his beck and call. I was suppose to drop everything to come to his apartment for an hour like a hooker. I said I preferred to come on the weekends for three hours like before. He said he didn't want to have spend three hours. "How much do we need? An hour max!"
I didn't want to do it anymore then, he didn't get it. Eventually I gave in, "I just meant that if we're expeditious we can make it." I chose to believe that's what he meant because I wanted to.
He was the one to end the sex, "I have started seeing someone, I don't think we can continue. I hope you understand."