Lifestyles Of The Wishy Washy

DG calls me at lunch. He wants to see me this weekend. I agree to meet up with him Friday when he gets off work. He doesn’t get off until 11 or so which gives me plenty of time to go out first. Hey, a girl has got to keep her options open, right?

FB calls on the way home. Am I coming out tonight? Of course I’m coming out tonight. I meet him for drinks at the bar for a couple hours. It’s fine. We aren’t as touchy feely tonight; both of us are still kind of weirded out by our conversation the other night. But after a drink and some good competition on the board, we are back to our easy going selves. Soon, the clock strikes midnight and Cinderella has to depart and Prince Charming has to be up in four hours for work. We split.

On my way home I try calling MOB. Oddly, he answers and he’s being nice. Not a combo I’m used to these days. He tells me he’s at the beach, thinking. I think he’s kidding and ask how many chicks are with him. He insists that he’s alone and clearing his head. I wish him luck and tell him to keep me posted if there are any major discoveries or improvements.

My friend calls and tells me he heard that Jas died. I cry myself to sleep, overcome with guilt.