On a certain Friday night, I had fun.

You know I hate to use the words "given up" but that is how I feel - defeated. Like I've been running for quite a long time with no finish line in sight. And in some ways I am hopeful but it is just not panning out. So I'm exhausted. Extremely exhausted. But something keeps me running, why?

On a certain Friday night, I had fun with a certain stranger. Strange becomes the fact that I can never see him again, and I hate that I even think about him 48 hours later. Think about him immensely.

You always think if you meet someone and you have great conversation and they make you laugh and you make them laugh, that it's a good sign. That surely there was a spark in there, you didn't just imagine it, and certainly they would like to do this again sometime, to sit and laugh with you again. Just like in the movies. That's my stupid heart speaking. But as my luck would have it, we just happen to be passing ships, and even if I instigate an opportunity to meet them again, they don't want to. Maybe the spark was nonexistent for them. Or maybe I just say something in the whole hullaballoo that ruins everything. Maybe they don't even give me a second thought after the evening is over. Maybe I just imagined it all.

Hey stranger, if I was 10 years younger (30 pounds lighter) and you were single, maybe, just maybe. But for now, I'll leave it up to chance and a whole lot of hope. We could laugh and enjoy life, even if momentarily. Gah, dear God why tempt me with stuff I can't have?

Fuck me too.