By the way, about 20 percent of Americans have genital herpes but somewhere between 50 and 80 percent have the oral version, so you've a ton of company and some of it is quite nice.
If you drag your angry self to a clinic or to your regular gyno you can get on an antiviral, which will not only suppress your symptoms but make it far less likely that you could spread this thing to a putative future boyfriend that you don't even want, especially since you still like the one you have. Then you won't hurt as much and can get back to where you were before: frustrated, angry, and bitter because sex isn't any fun for you. And then you can go see a therapist. And then, after that, maybe Betty Dodson and I can help you.
And before you think me unsympathetic, I'm really and truly not. I just think you need a swat on the behind to stop dithering in fury and start fixing stuff. I swat because I love.
Andrea is home with the kids and going stir-crazy. Write her a letter! Ask her a question! Send her your tedious e-mail forwards! On second thought, don't do that. Just ask her a question.
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