I feel like I'm too old to really fall in love again.

I feel like I can't let myself go.

~

T has been renovating his basement.

Making a 'man cave' as it were, though those are SO last year, so it's more of a common area.

I watch the progress, through snapshots he sends me, and I encourage him even while my heart sinks.

He's digging. He's nesting. He's settling.

What am I?

Fluff on the wind.

"I would hope that if we were married," he half huffed, half laughed, "that you would be living here!"

I laughed. I can't remember what I was teasing him about.

My heart, though. My heart, oh, my heart.

I think this romance is doomed from the get-go.

~

I am hiding in the mountain town, with the friends.

They are good friends. I am sleeping under two feather duvets.

I like to destroy beds when I sleep in them.

I miss T. My heart stutters. I resist texting him. I don't want to be annoying.

I don't want to be one of...THOSE girls.

"I miss you!"

"Why aren't you replying?"

"Listen to this funny thing I just heard!"

"I miss the feel of your hand in mine."

"I would like to take off your pants, sir."

"I still miss you!"

I can't be one of THOSE girls.

Instead I wait all day until something of note happens, then send a casual text message.

~

Yuck. Love sucks.

Didn't I promise I would never love again?

I'm pretty sure I did.

.

Rosie.

Before&After