I dream, but I rarely remember them. It seems to happen only when I wake up for a few minutes, then go back to sleep.
Last night I slept the fitful sleep of someone who had two wine dates with girlfriends in the same evening. At 3 am I drank lots of water and took ibuprofen to avoid the inevitable over-imbibing headache.
I dreamt I was traveling to Faraway Lover’s town. My hotel room phone was missing the handset, so I went to the lobby and asked for help to make a phone call. I ended up in a call center, where I tried to call his number. It didn’t work: I couldn’t get through. Continue reading →
The light of my life returned to the house yesterday before dinner. He wanted to play on his iPad and all I wanted to do was drink up his delicious almost-seven-awesomeness. We managed a decent balance of both.
I recognize depression and sadness in me. It doesn’t happen very often, but I suppose it’s quite normal for it to occur every once in a while. I didn’t leave the house from my arrival on Saturday afternoon until Liam and I walked to get groceries for yesterday’s dinner. At least I managed to shower. I am profoundly sad. I know it will pass.
I exchanged perhaps 4 text messages with Tony in the last 48 hours. He had his child all weekend. Thursday’s invitation is still out there – I suppose I will hear from him at some point today to tell me if he can go. It’s hard to have a serious relationship conversation with someone when they don’t contact you. Continue reading →
After some hopefully-not-statistically-significant sampling of both older and younger lovers, I developed a strong preference toward guys closer to my age. It is still true today that my best lovers were all around 40. Faraway Lover and Naked Ironing Man were over the top amazing, and they were both 45.
I wrote this post in response to the often repeated comments that I should take a younger lover. While I might educate a lover on the things I like, I’m not so keen on teaching them how to locate a g-spot.
As one of my good friends would say, “the younger ones are relatively useless in bed, but so pretty”.
I love music. I choose it based on my mood. It is almost always playing in my house – even more so now that I have a new turntable and my Dad’s vinyl collection to discover.
The post about Andrew and that Bruno Mars song got me thinking. For some of the men who have crossed by path, there is a song I associate with them. Perhaps just for a short period of time, perhaps forever. Time will tell. The songs that remind me of Faraway Lover are still vivid memories of our time together – I’m starting to think that will never fade.
Here are the boys and their songs. If you don’t know their stories, go to my “Lovers” page. But please don’t pick apart every lyric and test the applicability…my brain doesn’t work that way.