I wait, a tightness in my chest. It’s been 24 hours since I’ve heard from him. He’s in Vancouver for a bachelor party. The radio silence was abrupt and without notice.
I’m ok with it. Mostly. It also irritates me. Then I get irritated that it irritates me.
I told him to take pictures of the stripper/poker dealer.
I miss him, but I feel 190 pounds lighter. My days — and nights — are my own. I’ve been surprised by my own fantasies of how I would spend this precious free time.
I’ve decided I won’t be dissolute this weekend, but it didn’t come to me easily.
Am I a woman in love??
Yes, I am, but I’m also a woman without a bona fide commitment.
And so my wanton, hussy self that dangles behind, flashing in the bright lights of the world like a fishing lure, makes a weekend alone into a moral dilemma.
I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing or not.