I dreamt of her, and I never have before. Jessica appeared to me and was flirtatious. She was always a little bit that way but even more so in my dream. We were laying together and at one point she sucked on my fingers. We didn’t kiss, though. Strange. It was a happy, hopeful dream in one way but wistful and filled with regret over what might have been on the other. It also reminds me not to be so repressed. One of the joys of middle age, I am finding, is that I’m letting go of that repression. The regret I feel at never having told her how I really feel has taught me that much.
I hate coming home at night because it’s just me in my house. I feel so isolated most nights. It makes me sad. What am I going to do?