The importance 

of anything

is largely dependent on

the lens through which 

you see it. 


Why ask why?

I don’t understand how I can be writing about how wonderful Dateguy is in one post and the very next piece of information is my excitement that Unionguy might visit tonight. Why is that? But, then again, why not. Yolo, right? Also, I’m a whore. Lol

I did send that happy birthday text today, btw. Aaaand it turns out his birthday is on Friday. Which is what happens when you don’t write shit down. Nevertheless, I was the first to say it and he appreciated it and that’s all that counts. I wasn’t just trying to get him into my bed, I really meant it. Actually, if anything, I’m trying to keep him out of my bed. But I think we can all agree that I’m really not trying very hard. I’m not inviting him anymore, though. He has to bring up the subject, as he did when he dropped in to visit today. He grabbed me and kissed me before he left. Was fun. That’s all. 

Yes, it’s a matter of fact I am still talking about him

You know what the problem is? I don’t think I want to be in a full, long term relationship with him but I’m just so fucking glad he’s a part of my life! He fills up my cup. He makes me want to do better, to try harder, to be all I can be. That is not sustainable in a deep relationship, I don’t think. Or it would get diluted. 

I want the dances in the kitchen, the man who is excited to see me and wants me as much as I want him. That is Dateguy. 

But Unionguy is like chocolate. An indulgence that I enjoy but simply isn’t healthy to have all the time. Chocolate tastes so good and I always want more, but it’s better in small doses.

Date guy

Okay, this is starting to sound a little too similar to my diary when I was 15 – boys, boys, boys, money, weight, boys, boys, more boys. But I guess that’s who I am so I might as well just go with it. 

I think my little Unionguy melt down yesterday was perfectly timed because it seemed to purge some bad feelings and opened the way for new ones. I had such a good time with Date guy after. We had dinner at The Keg, laughed and laughed, and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. Then we came back here and drank the bottle of wine he bought, watched my favourite movie Limitless, then a comedy special or two while sharing a few of the more intimate details of past relationships. He’s been hurt, it’s a fact.

The bedroom was the best surprise of the night. Significantly better than the night before in some ways, although he was still kind and attentive and very complimentary. We slept well and stayed in bed for another three or four hours after waking. 

He heard me, he listened, he looked for that sensitive spot on my belly, he breathed into my ear, rubbed my back and made me feel beautiful and important and kind of even cherished. And, as I’m writing that with tears blurring my vision, it’s obvious that those things are important and rare for me. 

So I ask again – is this sustainable? Only time will tell. But right now it is good, it is very good. 


Tonight was different. It was fun, it was the most like a booty call and he was definitely the most relaxed/open/himself. 

I wasn’t even sure he’d come because there wasn’t the regular flirty build up throughout the day, not even a message since last night. Then he was late and I figured he forgot all about it, and thought that was as it should be. 

When he got here he was so animated and chatty, I instantly thought that the whole thing would turn out to be a huge error in judgement. How could date guy possibly live up to this? I’m just so crazy about this fucker.

The sex was better than ever, and that’s saying a lot. He was more vocal, more responsive, more… everything. I’m just so crazy about him it’s outrageous. 

But while I really enjoy these stolen moments with him, date guy likes me all the time. He’s fun and flirty and wants to be with me (from what I can tell so far, obv). 

I look forward to seeing what it’s like with date guy this weekend. We’ll be spending most of the weekend together and by Sunday I’ll at least know if he’s a good kisser and if he turns me on, hopefully also penis. I want this to happen. I so hope it is good. 

Only time will tell…

But just look at this guy. Can this be real? Is this sustainable???

Number 3

My boss said my eyes lit up as I was telling her about my date last night. I feel a little giggly.

[Before I go further, I would like to digress for a moment to comment on something. Several times since I started talking to him, including a moment ago, I would see a notification for a random email on my phone and a thought would sweep through my mind so quickly it was barely perceptible. That it would be an email from date guy, saying he doesn’t want to continue seeing me. I’m interested to know that the very idea of that happening makes my heart feel heavy. Also, he doesn’t even have my email address so stop being an idiot, me!]

Anyway… back to lighter things… 

We went for a walk last night and then came to my place for an impromptu dinner. While I was in the kitchen he tinkered around on the piano and then I asked him to pull out my guitar (which I don’t know how to play) and see if it’s a piece of junk like Miul said. Date guy said it’s not bad at all, then he tuned it, then he started playing/singing and my vagina started humming along. Lol

We ate, he had seconds, then dessert and watched a comedy show. I snuggled into him on my very uncomfortable 50 year old sofa and I think it nearly broke his back but he said it was worth it. 

We’re going out again on Saturday. I want to see him naked. I want to kiss him and touch him. I want to know. 

I’m horny as hell and, while I momentarily considered asking Unionguy if he wants to drop by tomorrow, I don’t think I will. I’ll wait and let it build with date guy and see if we have anything here. I think we might. How fun/scary/exciting/nice. 

I feel very good around him. He makes me feel calm and cared for. So far, so far.

Goodnight, you wonderful sexy man 

Although our love making is never ever the same (didn’t even know that was possible, to be honest), our nights together tend to always follow the same format. He arrives, we kiss hello and pour a beverage, then settle on the couch for an hour or so and catch up. At some point our eyes meet, one of us leans in, and it begins; sometimes fast, sometimes slow, usually with me climbing into his lap. 

Into the bedroom then, we rejoice in our bodies and delight in our carnal joining. Such deliciousness, over and over and over for me; he holds out, building, building, building the pleasure, until he can’t resist anymore. 

Then sleep. He wakes slowly, touching, rubbing, we begin chatting and telling stories of days long gone. Once more – “that one was just for me” (yum) – a quick cuddle, then he dresses and makes his way home. 

The funny thing is he thinks I sleep when he does. Our very first evening together, four months ago now, he commented how amazed he was that I slept so quickly, so soundly. I didn’t tell him. I didn’t sleep then and, to date and to my knowledge, I have never slept a minute in his presence. I lay next to him and listen to him breathe, our “Joy” playlist on Spotify plays quietly in the background, and I simply slip into bliss. For an hour or more, my brain is empty and I just am. It is the most wonderful feeling. 

Why don’t I sleep?, you wonder. Why not doze lightly, rest, because these are late nights of immoral indulgence, hours of excitement followed by sweet sweet release. But I don’t sleep. I can’t. Because I’m afraid I’ll cut loose a loud fart.  

(Bet you didn’t know my story was headed in that direction 😉)

It doesn’t rain, but it pours

Monday night I was sad and lonely and told myself to wait for things to get better, just wait. Tuesday night I went to the gym with my boss after work and then participated in no less than six concurrent texting conversations, including date guy, sister, BFF, mom, friend Kelly, and neighbour Donna. Then I heard from the guy I like on POF, who I thought was long gone.

It is Wednesday. And guess who is coming to visit? 😁

We are so much fun.

Guess who’s a big slut.

No, guess!