Feast or Famine, Baby

Now that the play is over, I find myself in a quandry: although I am thrilled to have more time to do some things that I needed to do for a while, I am also climbing the fucking walls. The apartment seems a little bigger now, a little more lonely, because I'm spending more time here, I guess.
I don't miss my ex, I just miss having someone to talk to - or even more important, since I do like chilling with just the critters - I miss having someone around to check in:
Are you okay? I know you have the flu, do you need something? Can I help you out and walk the dog since you're too sick to get out of bed?

Shit like that. I know I get like a little kid when I'm sick, it's just that as my parents get older, I wonder: who the hell's gonna be around to notice if fall off the face of the earth?

I know, I'm being melodramatic - I haven't had my coffee.

Anyway, so I also must admit; I miss the warmth of someone in my bed - and I really don't mean a wham bam thanks maam thing; those are depressing at my age. I am also not eager to run into another serious relationship - I will approach that kind of thing with MUCH hesitation and deliberation. No more puppy love causing sudden, mass disturbance in the Force. Not for this young Jedi Knight.
However, a nice person to boogie with in and out of the sheets who treats me like the fine lady I am...who will take me on a real date and want to hang and talk...who'll cook either with me or for me and like my critters...now that is a groovy idea. I think Bryan raised the bar for a new standard that I have set for myself. I know my Ex didn't help any.

I have written poems about some men in my life that I either have had the pleasure of knowing this way or I haven't and wanted to - either way, they aren't there now, and I'm kinda bummed.

Oh, I wasn't supposed to admit that and just act cool, like I don't care? Sorry.

My friend (who I have lost touch with because I can't track the whore down) who will always remain dear to my heart is Larry C. Sullivan, also known as Laretta Kincaid. This old queen and I used to go out all the time, and she always kept my spirits up when it came to guys...Laretta knew that my Ex was wrong for me. Girlfriend called that shit from a mile away.
Anyway, Laretta always said:
"Feast or famine, girl, that's what it is. Either you can't get laid to save your life or you can't beat 'em off with a stick."

And it's true. I just hope that the tide turns before I hit fucking 90.