HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS, BURNSY.
I hope to toast you. Soon. At your wedding in Austin. Gak!
Make it happen, man! You're no spring chicken. (kiddin', you baby)
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yo! Shout out to Coop. A random person that found my journal. Read the entire thing today - the whole fucking thing. And then was brave enough to send me a message. That is random, but cool.
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Oh. Soccerboy isn't the sweaty soccer player. Soccerboy isn't English. He's sexy too, but I'm not gonna jump him anytime soon. Besides, Soccerboy (my workout partner, y'all) likes skinny chicks with big, fake boobies.
Sweaty soccer player. Yes. Maybe. If he keeps calling me. Holy hell. That accent. I need to move to London. Those men. Wow. I have a Zoe-less weekend, so someway, somehow, getting laid might be on the itinerary. Well at least kissing. Kissing would be good. Kissing would be great.
Don't know what's up for this weekend. I'd like to see B again, but we may have kid issues. Seeing a movie with him was the cutest. Like a high school date all snuggly and stuff. I like that. I like him.
Oh well. Who knows, I may bag out and just have a non-boy-mom weekend and go to the salon or something. I need a massage and a pedicure anyway.
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Dr. E called me. And no, it doesn't make a difference, Soccerboy, damn you. I still miss him. I will always miss him. I will always love him.
He didn't get his 2nd year residency in Houston, even though he scored the highest in his program. He's staying in Pennsylvania and is still miserable. He hates the cold. I hate the heat. I need to be near him. I need him.
I don't know how I feel about this.
[Carrie Bradshaw moment]
Can you move forward with your life if your past keeps pulling at you?
I want to move on. I like dating. I like meeting new people and beginning to have a social life.
But they all seem so temporary.
I have made some great friends, like B, and I really enjoy their company, but I feel sometimes my heart just isn't in it. That connection is there sometimes, but I literally ache sometimes for Dr. E. His voice. His touch. His smile. And the way that he made me feel. Like I was the most amazing woman on the planet. Like I was sexy and fuckable and beautiful and he was so kind. So giving. So sexy. Romantic. Leaning over to kiss me at dinner. Dancing with me in my living room. Laying down on his couch to watch tv and stroking my hair and being silent and laughing.
B can make me feel that way. He's the most generous person. Like a light glows from him. He makes me laugh. And he's my friend. But I'm just so scared of getting involved. With him. With anyone.
I think this is why I'm on the prowl. I can't commit. I've turned into an asshole. I can't care. My heart is elsewhere.
When I talk to Dr. E, it's like he is mine again. And I'm his. He never acts like we are broken up. Or that there is a distance. Like his not calling me is all perfectly normal or something.
I still remember him seeing me for the first time and remarking, "Oh. You are so pretty." Genuinely surprised and happy. He hugged me. And I was his from that moment on. My mind. My body. Belonged to him. Sadly sometimes, it still feels that way.
He's going to Egypt for 10 days to visit his family. He says he will call when he gets back and is going to send for me to come see him for an entire weekend.
I will believe it when I get my plane ticket. :mope:
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Ah. Sweaty Soccer player. I'd like to lick his sweat. After he makes me come a dozen or so times.
I'm outtie.
Gym bound, you bitches!