It's Never About Hors D'oeuvres

I've been craving cream cheese for five days and i don't know why.

When my mind goes haywire it always means something. Always. There's no such thing as a random thought.

Last night JD and i had another drunken convo that was peculiarly grounding in a way. Not unlike other convos really. Past 11 p.m., he had an incoming call. [Who calls past 11 p.m.?!! Oh, I mean, Which bimbo?!] He put me on hold and never picked up again. I hung up. He never redialed.

I was furious intermittently throughout the day, even though i knew our relationship had purportedly evolved into this sublimated version. And, let's face it, he's a drunk. He's not responsible for his actions.

There's nothing like being slighted by an ex you're supposedly over already.

This morning, on the way to work, i found myself trying to recall all the ingredients that went into the crab dip recipe that JD's Mom gave me. Us. When there was an us. One ingredient was, lo and behold, cream cheese.

Perhaps my mind saw this coming. Perhaps i miss JD's Mom, who is kind and loving and infinitely understanding and domestically capable - everything that my Mom is not.

Perhaps i miss the notion of being loved.