On the nights we’re not speaking we lie, faces to opposite walls on the edges of the bed, each determined not to crumble first.
“He’d come to appreciate the sounds she made, a steady grumble of snores that lessened whenever she turned on her side. The things she said were invariably hostile: ‘Who the hell is Becky?’ ‘Don’t fucking look at me!’ ‘Why didn’t you answer the phone?'” By Mike Heppner
Readers of The Good Life flock to the truth about sleeping together, and what we really want from women.
Why do we share a bed with the one we love?
This is a comment by Davey on the post “Nice Guys Commit Rape Too”.