Is Just a Dream, Dream, Dream
Though the novel was not about adultery, she fantasized about her teenaged lovers all night and confessed to her husband: she had cuckolded him in her mind’s den. He said, Why not stop reading the book, then? But how could she stop? For the dreamland the novel wove was a mystery to discover God: how He was in love and our sultry Affairs against his passion, and his overwhelming adoration – who can win against that? A husband or a teen romance can only hope to fill a momentary emptiness, scratch an itch. She read the novel, she passed the glitch of jealousy to a scarier ground: to grope for how to love and be loved by both God and man, battering words for a bridge to that realm.