He waved his hand looking annoyed. What did any of thus have to do with his illness? "It is what I fear losing. After all, my mind and body are already failing me. I certainly have other worries about intimacy..as you say."

He signed and closed his eyes. He didn't want to speak. "I can count on one hand the number of people I have been alright being close to. Less than half of them could I hug, albeit briefly. But anyone else, I feel like I'm on the outside looking in. It's one reason painting is so natural. I like being the observer. Trying to be close to someone when it doesn't come naturally is like..." he thought.

"Pretend you are just walking down the street and a man you didn't know claimed to be your wife and want to act like her and want you to treat her as such. You'd think it was ridiculous but what if it was true? What if somehow she was now this man. As much as you may love your wife, it would feel weird and wrong. Right?" He said. Hoping this strange idea he suddenly pulled on would work.