Ok, I think I'm calmer now. My boyfriend is gone. And I spent all night last night, gloriously alone in my living room. Because my room-mate and I had drama the day before my boyfriend showed up with drama. And so she is scared of me, and careful of me and so I basically just got to paint and work on my manuscript and eat brownie batter without
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I have a similar fear- that I have gotten so old and curmudgeonly and set-in-my-ways that even if I was to find someone worth being my boyfriend, I would have no idea how to fit him into my established habits and life. I mean, what sort of dude would understand that Sunday is frozen pizza, red vines and DVD night? This sacred ritual must not be broken!
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