I’m having a hard time organizing my thoughts. I think I am just too distracted by the snow on the ground – Ooh, it’s bitter cold! – and the promise of two cold noses and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, snow melting and speckled on us. Once upon a time, we danced in the middle of the street at 2am together, and we sat in hidden valleys eating fancy cheese and raspberries. There’s magic there, I tell you.

I’m muddled, and I can’t think straight. I can’t read anymore because I start day-dreaming; and if it’s not about him that I’m thinking, it’s about my dangerous ladies, come to fit themselves into my life. Suddenly “the new year” doesn’t sound so far away. What will I do? Who will I become? One point of a triangle, a triforce of girl power and unrelenting seduction? We’ll take the city by storm, we three. I’m also nervous about them meeting each other. There are going to be some interesting things happening in the next few months.

Meanwhile, she wrote about the better fuck. I like that we keep writing about each other. It’s like a little present every time she mentions me. The better fuck. I wonder, will vanilla be enough? How hard do I have to be smacked around to be satisfied? I’m sick of talking about sex. I’m sick of wanting it and not getting it. But it’s my own fault, isn’t it? I could be having oodles but I’m hesitant.

It’s time to re-define my priorities. With work in place, I can concentrate on play. Who wants to come to the theatre with me? I get discounted ice cream. It’s one down, you know? I’m not sure how many there are to go, but I’m ready. Time to build something.