2pm: I loiter in the x-walk, daring the white-haired doyenne driving the BMW to make me her hood ornament. I’m all death-wish, all the time now.
5pm: Should I go to the gym? Or troll Craigslist? Decisions.
7:30pm: Compromise reached: 2 hours at gym. 2 bottles of wine & 2 dark chocolate/salted caramel candies purchased on way home from 2 hrs at gym.
8pm: “Can I again see you in year? 3 days I leave to sail boat for 12 months. I wish we had met last 6 months.” MY FUCKING LUCK.
2 min later: PS. NOT that kind of sailor. He’s an OLDER THAN ME-HA! Brazilian architect whose wife died 2 yrs ago & he can’t ever be with another woman.
1 min later: Don’t tell me I don’t know how to pick em!
1 min later: Why is it that 90 minutes on treadmill/bike w/my heart rate over 170 hasn’t made me forget everything? MORE WINE! MORE CHOCOLATE!
5 min later: Petite Sirah. It’s what’s for dinner. Who needs food?
SOOOOOO … here’s the thing … I have been trying to “get back out” in the world but doing so without anyone to whom I can talk about it. (I miss Steve.) And – here’s the thing – I FINALLY met someone I really really REALLY liked who wasn’t a felon or married or – in fact – TWO people I really liked – and – here’s what happened –
1) It was clear after a few evenings that he was NOT into me in the way I was into him; he was WAY better looking than me, too good looking to waste time with me, and – I guess, 35, maybe, too young. Even though I am now 42. And, P.S. – named Sebastian. And so – well – no more details – but, yeah …
2) He was older than me (can you believe that? Maybe a first.) And I really REALLY liked him – although his grasp of English was in the formative stages – his wife died a few years ago and he’s seen NO ONE since then. He ONCE – when he was fourteen – had a “thing” with a male friend, and he loved his wife SO MUCH – he cannot stand the thought of being with another woman, so, he thought, “Okay, maybe I should see if I can date a man again.” And, I was that man. And we REALLY hit it off. And then he told me he was leaving because the world was too much for him – had been too much for him – he was going to sail by himself for a year – which he’d been planning for six months and he “did expect not to someone meet who would make me smile – but – sad – you are so sad like I am and – can I again see you when I come back from the ocean?”
Jesus fucking christ.
I wish someone would shoot me. And then again, my dearest dear dear dear friend, one the A’s(squared) – gave me 10 – YES TEN – OH MY GOD – Pupitre notebooks. So now – shit – I owe it to her to write a novel I can dedicate to her – I’ll write it while waiting for my sailing Brazilian architect to come back … unless, of course, he’s lying.
I hate my fucking life. I knew I should NEVER have started “dating” again.