Third day of being single. It is getting old.
My mother came to visit me for a movie and dinner. During the movie I spontaneously had the urge to cry at random silly young love moments. So much for improvement. It doesn't help that every night I have a dream about him. Last night I had sextuplets with him, weird I know. Went to another party tonight and hung out with a guy that I had casually hookedup with a year ago (before Mr. X was Mr. My Boy). We stayed close friends afterward and are still good friends now, thanks to my stealth in pretending that he doesn't drunkenly attempt to booty call me most nights. I don't answer; we don't talk about it. It is weird to think that he might of ended up being my boyfriend if things had gone differently. Needless to say, I prefer him as a friend. He is much more fun as a flirty distraction with no strings (or lips) attached.
I have decided that I rather look, not touch, attractive guys... for the time being.
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