Friends

The fantasy didn't last long. About eleven hours, actually.

Miranda... wants to be friends.

That is all.

The population of women I admire, am attracted to, and cannot have, has just risen by one.

On the way home last night, I had actually started letting myself think about what I should do to make sure I took things slowly, don't get antsy, clingy, worried. Thought carefully about what I should do to not... fuck it up as usual. That wasn't the easiest thing to work through in my head, but ultimately, if you can't be honest with yourself, you can't be honest with anyone, and honestly, I have fucked up a number of otherwise-promising relationships. And I thought hard about how not to do it this time.

All for naught. I don't even get to the starting gate.

Yes, we are going out on New Year's, though.

I will feel horrible.

This might have been one of the most lonely weekends I have ever lived through. I don't have any belief that next weekend won't be worse, and then the weekend after that.