Little joys, little pains.

It’s really freeing to not give a shit.

It’s also simultaneously lonely.

Peter came over for an impromptu night together on Sunday. He groaned into my ear how much he loved the way I fucked. For a moment I thought of the woman he’s newly entangled with, the one he’d told me he hung out with by the pool all day the day before.

I guess she doesn’t fuck like me.

We have plans to hang out by my pool this Sunday. I want to do that better than her, too.

But then I think he’s going to cancel on me. Something will come up. It’s like I told The Golfer repeatedly, I just don’t trust that men will follow through and I was surprised each time I ended up at his doorstep the day we planned.

To that end, TG is sensitive. “I can’t commit first thing Monday morning to a Saturday. I have a ton of shit going on and I don’t want to disappoint.” Maybe he doesn’t know what’s disappointing to me, to any woman.: to not be important enough to lock in a time to see me is rather a large let down.

So congratulations for not failing to follow through on a Saturday. Too bad you left me standing there grinning ear to ear all dressed up with no where to go. Silly, Hy, it’s Monday morning. Give the guy a break.

Peter said yes to Sunday on a Monday, though. Good for him. Only, I doubt he’ll actually show up. One-Month Crazy Lady will likely have a moment of some kind and he’ll need to tend to her.

I’m having 4 am girl flashbacks. — Oh, that reminds me, I saw The Neighbor again today. Pey and I were walking up the hill after swimming chatting away. I saw glimpses of him walking to his car then he drove slowly past us. Peyton didn’t even notice him. My baby only noticed the woman with a broken arm.

“Look mom,” Peyton pointed. “Now that must’ve hurt.” I had to look where the finger was pointing and it was right at TN pulling out. I wondered if he thought my baby was pointing at him. Fuck if I care. —

But yeah, 4 am girl, the one TN tried to date after he told me he didn’t want to date me. Crazy Lady reminds me of her because Peter has claimed he doesn’t want to date anyone either, but here we are.

Hot messes getting the guy.

My therapist asked if I could ask Peter why I didn’t seem to be a candidate for him. I’d told her I could, but I was too afraid of the answer to ask him on Sunday. Maybe I will at the pool.

Then again, I’m not sure I give a shit, but fuck it if I’m not lonely as hell.

Post kiss at a swanky downtown riverfront hotel. My date had to go back to work. I decided to stay and languish with my feet up and some bubbly rosé.

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A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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