I told J2 I had to go upstate and so I did — not because I had to but because I wanted to make the lie true. Yes, I’m over him. And… I feel a little bit like I’m cheating on G. when I see him. Even though G. and I are not to the point where that’s even a discussion, wtf. Though G. did text and ask for my address on Friday and so I’m pretty sure he’s sending something for Valentine’s and I’ve no idea what I think of that. I’m thrilled because I’ve never actually been dating someone on a Valentine’s Day who wanted to do that, and it seems kind of great to have my frist experience with that. But I”m terrified that it’ll be superficial and he’s sending six of them and I’m only one and it’ll take away from the meaning of it…. which of course he can’t even know. so wtf again.

and I’m reminded of KZ and breaking up with him because I was convinced I was one of the girls he had in every port. Was I right? wrong? how will I ever know?

Self-pity sucks and I’m trying really hard to indulge in it briefly now so I can put on a brave face later.

I think I need to stop dating all of these fuckers and try to find someone I actually want to be with. Sex is better than no sex, but it’s apparently also not only what I want at 46. Who knew I’d turn out to be such a fucking girl.

ran into an old neighbor on the subway, always liked her but haven’t seen her in — well, it turns out over a year. her husband has cancer, mantle cell lymphoma, and he’s chemo resistant but just had the ileostomy reversed and when he’s healed from that, needs a bone marrow transplant. they found a donor but it’s only 9 points out of 10 and although that sounds good, apparently it’s not but as she said, the closer you get to dying the more they’ll consider a 9.

i gave her my number and hope she’ll call to go get a drink one day. i always liked her.

I start to freak out every year as the anniversary of your death approaches — and then I miss the actual day. Usually I remember a few weeks later, just before your birthday, but this year I missed that, too. I’d suggest that after 23 years the blow has softened, but really, I know that’s not true. I miss you now and always.

I could have done more.
I didn’t know.
Don was right.