"I'd forgotten how much I liked you," G said. His voice was thick with sleep. "You should come visit. I have a nice comfortable bed here, good for sleeping in."

"I'd like that," I said. I have been looking at plane ticket prices. I don't know when I'd go, though. So much going on. My life is planned up until September. "If you wouldn't mind having me, of course."

"It would be nice. I have a car, so I can take you places," he said. "I wish I'd had one there."

"Ech," I said. "I had to work. I was pretty tired by the time I was done."

I would have liked to go on that date he promised me, but I got home from work at 7pm on the only possible day we could have done it. After that, all I wanted to do was put my head in his lap and doze, which I did.

It was easier not to care before he came to visit.

Now...sweet words intoxicate. How can I trust him? How can I trust any man who whispers sweet nothings again?

I have always been more comfortable with people who chose their words carefully and did not flatter me overmuch. I don't know what to do with it.

~

My lover, not G, was supposed to come visit this weekend. It was fully planned.

He neither showed up, nor called, nor made any attempt at contact.

Needless to say, I think he's an ex-lover. I enjoy being held as much as the next person, but if it's one thing I cannot stand it's people wasting my time for me.

He was supposed to show up on Friday night and stay until Sunday sometime.

Instead of making sweet love to him on Friday, I went to archery instead.

Instead of hanging out with him during the day on Saturday, I went shopping with Mark.

Instead of whispering sweet nothings in his ear on Saturday night, I went to James' place for an impromptu and rather wild party.

Instead of waking up next to him on Sunday morning, I woke up next to Allison with a wicked hangover.

All in all, I had a brilliant weekend.

~

"Ready for Estrella?" G asked.

"No, I got a lot of things to get done this week. It's crunch week," I said.

"...packing all those condoms you're going to need?" He always says stuff like that. Not in a 'you're a slut' sort of way but rather an insecure kind of probing for other people in my life.

I laughed, as I always do. "Yeah, I've still got to pack the hundreds of condoms I'm going to need."

For someone who's so insecure, he sure sleeps around a lot. Or maybe he sleeps around because he's so insecure.

Do I do that?

I'm not sure.

And now, I gotta get back to the sewing machine. These tunics won't sew themselves.

.

Rosie.

Before&After