Beware When The Player Gets Restless

Sent a scathing text to Mason this morning. No response. Here's what kills me about men. They are supposed to be big and tough. They don't cry at movies or when they slice their finger or get knocked out in a flag football game. They are the protectors, or so they want you to believe. So how is it that big, stupid men can be so scared of women? If their buddy asks them something they will spit out a painfully honest answer. It's their nature. If a woman asks them something, they shrink and hide and cower like the apocalypse is upon them. Seriously, boys. Grow up. Be real. Answer a question. Be honest. It might get you places in the long run. Obviously I'm fit to be tied today. At lunch I got a call from Rock. As always his voice makes my heart melt. Oh, why didn't I run away with him years ago when he asked me? I know, I know, because I never loved him like that. Grrr.

On the subject of the past. I had a very odd dream about Ronnie last night. Perhaps it's because I've been choking down crabby patties and he was always my little piece of solitude? What's weird is that we weren't hanging out or talking or working on a masterpiece together. We were having dinner and about halfway through, we decided to have sex instead of cheesecake for dessert. It was like we saw it on the menu and thought that sounded good. We walked out the door of the restaurant and into a bedroom and we did it. Then we got up, got dressed and went back and finished eating. Just for the record, I haven't thought about or engaged in sex with Ronnie for over 7 years. Seems a little odd to me that I dreamt I used my peace to get a piece last night.