Certainly there's a difference between routine and stability? I'm languishing in immense boredom in the routine of each and every night. The same words spoken, the same assurances written down, the same looks given to one another. The innocence and inexperience are endearing no longer. It is no longer quaint but a complete chore to shelter someone to everything they don't feel like dealing with. People drink, people smoke, people fuck. It happens. Not all of it is so horrific. You don't have to be so damned afraid of a slight breeze catching your cheek.

I decided to toss on the brown silk dress and heels just to nip out for a while. It may have been a grave mistake, if the flirting was of any judge. I get bogged down emotionally by being the recipient of flirtatious innuendo. I worry that just a smile in someone's direction out of politeness is an invitation to overtures of another kind. When I get nervous in those moments, I start humming a particular song in my head and when I reach the end, I count in 6/8 time.

I dreamt I had enough money to take away the choices that beleaguer him now. We've plenty to cover modest housing and a little entertainment now and again but it doesn't complete with unbilled bachelorhood. Perhaps he learnt that the status he sits in isn't so appealing when one goes to meet with former peers who have aged quite a bit in ten years time.

He said he felt as though he hadn't achieved anything after being around them. Depends on the definition of achievement, surely.