I’ve been quiet around here, I know. Mostly deliberately. Things aren’t going well between me and Elliot, and while I have no regrets and feel like I have grown exponentially, I haven’t wanted to write about it.
I’ve also been having some hot sex with a very old FWB (he’s the guy I met on Tinder in this post). Peter is the cure to my ails, a cookie to dip in my black coffee. He’s sweet, affectionate, giving and thinks I’m the cat’s meow and is absolutely zero maintenance. He’s helped keep me sane since things with Elliot began to unravel.
August has started out with a real bang for me and I’ve let the writing slip to the way side. Always writing posts in my head, though. I wonder how many times I’ve written the words, “I’ll post about it soon/later…”
And this week I remembered to include Sandy’s note. All the hugs to you, Sandy!
Love you guys,
NOT my tits:
It was suggested to me today to consider voluntary prophylactic mastectomy. Lots on the mind.