Illusions of Eire

I must often remind myself to stop expecting life to work out the way I imagine it will. If there's only one assurance about life that I have gathered from my few years of experience, it's that life will NEVER happen the way one imagines it. Once a scenario has been constructed mentally, that's it; that's just one less possibility.

Speaking of which, this past week I reconnected with the very-connected Irish guy in the East Coast "open" relationship. Of course, when he's in this time zone, he's on business ... and me. It’s taking some time to adjust to this arrangement, but the sex rocks.

On Sunday morning, after my second night in his hotel room in less than three days, we went out to brunch. There, I made him tell me all about his beau. It turns out that they're nauseously happy; David may even propose in the next few months. I was jealous.

Surprisingly, David was cool with sharing all the details with me. He didn't think it weird at all, or so he claims. I dunno if I'm buying the whole open-relationship story. He could just be having an affair. He's a man, which means that sex and love don't always have to go together.