We went to her place. She cooked steak. There was a lot of wine. We ended up in bed but before the sex started, she began to cry. I asked what was wrong but she wouldn't say. I think I tried to be nice but my frustration was probably pretty evident. I had my arms around her, attempting to wait it out, but I soon realized it was a lost cause. So I decided to just go with the flow. I began to cry, too. Not about the date, or her, or that night—just about stuff. There we were, lying in bed, hugging, and crying without speaking a word to each other. It was more intimate than sex.