...sometime this weekend - lost in a delightful fugue brought on by multiple players from the alphabet - dancing in a bank of dance floor fog to Phil B or Tracy Young or Manny Lehman - I felt this sensation: togetherness.

I realized that, the moment I like myself best and see myself for who I really am and the possibility to be - is when I'm with friends (new and old).

I don't want to date anyone right now. Not BN1 or BN2 or BN3 or any other BN_ that might come along. I'm not ready. I don't want to share my deepest thoughts. I don't want another guy to make up cute nicknames for me, I don't want to wake up next to anyone - not yet. I've started distancing myself from the bachelors. I don't want to be cruel, I don't want to hurt anyone - but this isn't about them - it's about me (I've spent enough of my life worrying about hurting others).

Today is two months. Two months since I officially closed the door with Lucky. I don't regret it. It hurts. More than I ever really write about here. I miss him - but I think I miss more the idea of him, or the memories of him with me that make me smile. I'm not ready to love someone else. But with friends - you can shower them with all that love, laughter and adoration that used to belong to your ex. I started booking trips last night - more efforts to connect with my closet friends. I'll be in San Diego in 2 weeks, Long Beach the weekend after that and Los Angeles sometime in June.

Without my boyfriend and my dog I became ungrounded.

I want to love something, I want to laugh with someone, I want to build memories with someone...

...but I think they call that person a friend,

or even better, let's call that person - me.