January 20, 2018:

No dates in public. We can't be seen together. She'll be busted by all the men she's sworn to be exclusive with.

Dinner and wine. Guitars, more wine. Movies, more wine. The couch, kisses, shirt unbuttoned or pulled up or pulled off. Very pretty little breasts less than the size of my palm. More wine.

In bed she's sweet, attentive, extremely skilled. It feels like she cares. I believe she does actually care. Just not in the way she says.

That's probably good. For me. I'd be likely to fall hard if not for the distance her dishonesty creates. Falling hard would not be wise.

That's a shame. For her, I mean. She needs to be loved. I hope one day she finds her truth and lets it happen.

I name this song, "Teeny Yogini From Laguna Niguel".

I'll be singing it for a while yet.