“I was drunk the entire time. But mostly on Thursdays.”

Guess who showed up last night?

The Giant.

Not physically, he just texted. But that was enough. It’s been 84 years, or like a month really.

They all do this. Disappear and reappear. But last night felt like the universe was throwing me a curveball and it hit me in the ear.

It was already a perfect storm for emotions. I pre-warned everyone and had napkins in my purse.

Kinda for a minute thought I was gonna be okay.

Then the bing of a text.

Said he was drunky and had a story for me. So I sat on the stairs at work and listened to a tale of how his hot neighbor that he tried to date until she made it abundantly clear that she wanted a baby RIGHT NOW, had found a pair of my panties in his bed. I was drunky too and I can’t quite remember the rest of the story but she’s moving in 4 months and hostile and it was really good to hear his voice.

We both admitted to purposefully leaving the other one alone, with great effort.

He said he got laid the night before and it was disappointing.
Reminded me of how it always was with us after. Listening to music and just touching until we fell asleep. Lightning bolts in our fingers.
I know the feeling babe and I am sorry I spoiled you but you spoiled me too.

He was the hardest thing about leaving.

I spent my first month here in tears. Probably a little longer than that if I am being totally honest.

Been good about it the last little while, keeping my eyes dry.

Not last night.

Intellectually I knew I shouldn’t be drinking. But I did it anyways.

My uterus is in full war mode and revolt, we didn’t have enough girls for me to get an extra day off this week. My day off was not what I thought it was going to be. My pain level is at a 6 and breaching at an 8. And I am disappointed.

Not a good day to be drinking but alas.

It’s a Thursday. Notoriously bad for this kind of thing.

Shenanigans ensued.

I think if I ever sit down to write about my adventures here the book will be called “I was drunk the entire time. But mostly on Thursdays.”

He, the Giant, keeps telling me he is coming for me and then he doesn’t talk to me for a month.

Seems to be the story of my life.

Varying levels of fuckbois, all the same with different faces and talents and timelines. A never-ending game of “come here/go away.”

And I have to keep reminding myself that this is the choice I made, to be this way. To live and date this way. Makes for good blog fodder I suppose.

My ex-husband said if I kept going like this I would end up old and alone with only memories. Isn’t that kinda the point? To live and remember the adventures?

547 posts, this makes 548. 8 have been set to private and 90% are about lovers past and present. Giant probably has more posts to his name than any other. Not probably, definitely.

84 actual years could go by and I would still pick up the phone if he called. And so it is with 90% of them.

Nope showed up last night and I did a grand job of pretending to be mad while still holding onto him by the hoodie. But I am not. Didn’t help he got a haircut and looked cute as fuck.

I remember watching Brokeback Mountain finally, years after it came out. It was a rainy day in Parry Sound right before the lodge opened for the season. I had heard that line over and over again

“I wish I knew how to quit you.” and it resonated to my core. This is me, summed up in a movie quote about gay cowboys in love.

Because there was more to it…isn’t there always?

“You have no idea how bad it gets! I’m not you… I can’t make it on a coupla high-altitude fucks once or twice a year! You are too much for me Ennis, you sonofawhoreson bitch! I wish I knew how to quit you.”

Jack: Once in a while? Every four fuckin’ years?

Ennis: If you can’t fix it, Jack, you gotta stand it.

Jack: For how long?

Ennis: For as long as we can ride it

There is nothing to fix. It just is what it is.

And ya, sometimes you have no idea how bad it gets.

And then, when I am least expecting it, something good comes through the door.