My ex.
Which one?
The one that left me for another woman, one who would marry him? The one that I did marry? The one I loved and let drift away? The one that ran away? The one that hung around my front porch while I ignored him entirely? The one who held my hand in the backseat of his mother's car? The one I learned "hey Jude" for, but never sang to him? The one I cheated on? The ones in college who couldn't keep up? Those ones in high school, who met me in the woods to have some fun? The one who gave me my first kiss?
Goodness, now that I think of it, I've had a lot of boyfriends. Now I am of an age that loves alone time. I sleep on the side of the bed that I fancy and with the windows wide open. I have all the pets I want to have. I pick up only after myself. I eat when I am hungry, sometimes just a small bowl of something pickled. I pickle when pickles need pickling, like I will do today.
Sometimes I wish someone else lived here, so that I could recount the silly things that happened in my day, or bounce an idea off of. Or to have a little argument with. Or just to love knowing. I miss my son! He was the perfect housemate.
This is my entry to 