My view is that I loved Ann back in those long-ago vicious days all there was in me to love. If it wasn’t enough, at least she mined out the seam. What really was essential back then (I never like the sound of really; I’d be happy to evict it from the language along with many other words) was her own unquenchable need to be . . . what? Assured? Affirmed? Attended to? All of which she defines as love.
