After 4 days of being down since the dreaded feast, I finally have energy to do things again. Did I just need the rest, or is it the fact that I spoke to her again yesterday, the first time in, what, two years? Since before my seperation?

Christmas can be a deadly time for singletons, and I didn't look forward to it. In fact, thanks to unexpected random social events, it went pretty OK. Even having my ex-wife and the kids for dinner was not bad at all. We have very few issues now. It's taken a few years, but water under the bridge. She looks well, looks like her new relationship is going her good. Good to see.

It was Boxing Day it all hit me. Maybe I've been staving off loneliness since my last fling, inevitably, ended, but whatever it was, it cabooshed me pretty hard. And the girls were staying with me too - as usual they are great, but I hate feeling like a bottomless pit when they are here. I don't want to be a miserable dad.

With new energy, today I made second visit to the Swedish budget furniture outlet in two days, about time I get some decent curtains in this room. Make a lamb stew, call up a few friends, clean out some drawers, try to fix my place up a bit.

Anyhow, about her - I met her around the time my marriage was curtains, although I didn't quite know it at the time. It seemed quite catalytic - the moment I saw her, my jaw dropped and I knew I wanted her for something that I had been missing so badly. Some kind of emotional contact, I don't know.

We kept contact, even went for drinks once or twice. I knew she had been alone too long, wanted someone. Really wanted someone. But I couldn't do it. How could I get through seperation, divorce, all the mess and complication, while having someone like that in the next city? Loving two women sounds great in theory, the reality is something else. And I did still, somewhere, love my ex, despite our shared misery. The thought terrified me, as if the emotions involved would have torn my spirit in two.

I couldn't ask her to wait, couldn't do anything. Could only try to face the mess of my own life. Time passed, eventually I became more or less free, but by then she was gone, to another. No surprise, beautiful woman like that, and lonely. Last time I saw her was at a book swap place, I got drunk and bitched horribly about my ex. What a mess.

Somehow we end up talking again. A few missed calls, hints that we should get in contact ... and suddenly there is her warm, measured voice again, on the end of a phone.

It's weird, like we know each other but don't know each other at all. We used to talk on the phone, she remembers stuff I have forgotten about my past. We've known each other years, but we don't know each other. I can't even honestly say she seems like what I'd call "my type". But, there she is. We'll see.

You can't ever know, and maybe we shouldn't, can't. I don't want to put any hope in this. I'd written her off as the road not taken, opportunity missed. But somewhere, I need hope. It's good to have it.

Time to go get those curtains shortened.