The incident of a week ago tonight brought us so very close for several days that now that the tenseness is over my life seems perfectly empty and useless.
We should have married last Monday as he suggested. There will never be another time like that. We will never be so close again. That was the time. It will never mean to us what it would have meant the early part of last week.
Now it will be several years away, if ever. Year of love means years of suffering.