So, last night at the bar was pleasant. I had four beers and had a good time. Dan said I looked drunk…for Dan who’s always high on hash and mostly drunk…I just didn’t know what do think about that.

Actually he said “You look like you’re having a good time”, but he said it in the way that implies drunken debauchery.

Why am I dwelling on Dan again? I promised - no warned myself - not to become involved with him on any level. Its just hard when at one time you felt so deeply in love with someone, who left you mid-love. No closure. No gentle “Its not you its me”. He just left. And now he’s back. And it feels like we should be exactly where he left me. I keep having to remind myself that I’m dilusional, and that I’m not in love with him anymore.

Sure, I have feeling there for him. Just not love. We have a history, a friendship that hurt too much to go on - for myself anyways. One day I just stopped calling him, because it hurt too much, and I wasn’t interested in the hot eighteen year old that bought him roses.

Too touch him though, is simply strange. When I hug him, its as though there is a warmth and a coldness all at once. A hunger for our friendship, but a desperate need to release him all at once.

I just want to hold him and rub my fingers in his hair. Stroke his moustache. I need to prove to myself that someone I thought I would never see again is standing right in front of me.

Its like losing your favorite object, and then as soon as it was mourned, forgotten and replaced…there it is amongst a drawer. You doubt you’re seeing what you’re seeing. You searched every inch of your house. You prayed it would come backe to you. You cried because it meant so much to you. But after time, you were alright. And then there it is. But its broken now. Its not the same object you once cherished. Once again you mourn for what it once was. A time comes though when that broken treasure simply becomes garbage. The memory lives on I’m sure.

So, yes Dan was out last night, and I felt more emotionaly attatched to him than usual. I must let him go though and treasure my memory of our time.

The family is out for brunch, except for Billy who found his way home with a little hottie from Halifax. I sit and shake off the fogginess of the night before, and nurse my headach with Starbucks coffee - Verona. Smoky, Sweet, Bold. I’ll probably head out for coffee with them later if the urge hits me. I’d like to relax, read, work on my novel, perhaps paint a little. I’ll probably go for coffee though.

Today is Ross’s first day working without me. I hope he’s doing ok. He should just be getting off right around now. He must like working there, because he didn’t show up for his bouncer shift at boyztown lastnight. He’s working with Lucy though, and I hope she’s not too grumpy to him, because he’ll be even grumpier back.

I need to get laid. I just can’t find my sex drive anymore. No, really, its gone! I just can’t feel any desire for sex. Is that strange? Does it happen to other people? People keep making fun of me, because I’m not a promiscuous slut who sleeps around with ever second man to fulfill my self esteem issues. I’m I the strange one for being a wee bit picky about who I sleep with? However, I mean I have no sex drive AT ALL the last few months except for the random day here and there. Not that I’m innocent. I’ve had my moments of depsperate need.

I need love. Its just not coming though, and I’m convinced its because I don’t try. I can’t be bothered to hurt myself again. If I need sex, I know where to get it. If I need love, I have my family and my “family”. My experiment to see if men will come to me is a HUGE failure.

Perhaps its time for this lion to go on the hunt again!