Upon returning home that evening, Murse crawled into bed, and lay on his stomach. He mumbled.
“Tired. Yoga…killed me.”
I had ridden the Murse wave til it’s end. No more sex with Murse. Murse knew, like me, that he needed to shut down. Protect himself. Protect me.
As I watched him doze off, I realized it was time to put on the brakes. Put away the fantasy that Lost Girls’ will hold on to forever. I am no longer Lost, however. I know when it was time to say goodbye to Murse, say yes to friends.Read more »