There are lots of things going wrong right now — romance, finis, your chance, finis, those ants that invaded my pants, finis — but, I am weirdly happy.

I have pms, I have stress and pressure, I am overworked, I am still relatively broke, and I could list all of the things that are wrong, and, ugh, single-ish, but . . . I am happy.

I feel really good in my own skin again. I could read back through my journal and find when the darkness crept in and took over, but I am not that interested in looking backward. I am looking ahead. I am living now.

I like me again. I like how my brain is working.

I just feel clear and real and solid.

I reached out to LP on Monday and we connected via text (which i not at all unusual since he was still working), though it was a little strange and strained. He said: “things are fucking miserable actually. But i am surviving. ” I told him how well things are going and he was happy for me and I added “I have missed you,” without response from him. I was a little cold, suggesting, at some point, we should meet for a drink to catch up.

I reached out to LP last night — I did something sort of strange, but well within the bounds of our relationship, as it was, and something that he would have loved a couple of weeks ago. I sent him a photo. He loves when I send him photos. Loved. I have been changing all my profile pics to a new photo from last week, so I emailed it to his phone well after work hours. No response. That’s happened before when he’s been working like mad and things were still okay. My thought was that he would get it and smile and think of me.

Who knows if that happened.

I thought I would give it a last shot because I did not feel comfortable really moving on with any ambiguity. Now, there’s not. I did what I needed to in order to move on. Now, I can accept we’re done. I am leaving it as I entered it — with warmth and love and lots of lessons learned. For that, I am grateful.

While I am sad, because really, everything about him felt so right, so fast, and I became a better girlfriend to him than I ever was to BFD, I get it and I know what more is out there and how much I do want. I know what I can tolerate and what I will never again abide. It is already impacting how I relate to BFD — from how I speak to him to how I touch him.

It will take me time to get over even the short passionate (unconsummated) affair with LP. I know that already. But even that is okay. From him, I really learned a lot about myself and about what I want and need in the future.

And, even on a very cold day, I am weirdly happy and excited to see what the future brings.

Last night, I hit a barbecue, drank cocktails, ate a ton of food, so this morning, I was anxious to hit the trail and work it off.

It was cold and damp, but I knew if I laced up and headed out, I would feel better.

The trail, which runs through a big park, relaxes me. I used to wander around it and find solutions to complex problems.

Today, I just kept seeing people who reminded me of BFD. I am sure I have mentioned that BFD and I are ethnically different, so the fact that a good 1/3 of the people I saw resembled him ethnically, did have me both laughing and shaking my fist at the sky, metaphorically, wondering WTF universe?!!!

So, I thought about him on the trail and it was not good — for him. I tried to envision a future with him and it was just so empty and unhappy. LP wormed his way into my thoughts of my BFD’d future and it was just ugly and sad.

Because I was so troubled, I doubled my workout, hoping to exercise away the demons. It did not work. I just saw more people who resembled BFD and my ipod lost charge in when I was still 7 minutes from my door.

Even a bad, troubling workout is still better than 90% of the other ways I could have spent the morning.

I could make plans to see BFD, but the truth is I am not unhappy sitting in bed, recharging the ipod and watching a truly terrible football game.

I am not calling BFD, not calling LP. I am just relaxing and grateful that the worst thing that happened to me today was being reminded of BFD and realizing over and over again how very wrong for each other we have been.

The different between a narcissist and a normal, even self-involved, person is that a narcissist thinks only, “how does this affect me?” no matter what you tell him.

They may have a passing thought: “I hope she’s okay,” but the real thought “how does this affect me?”

I was reminded of this in talking to A over the weekend, who, upon realizing I was in financial straits actually texted me: “the condo is not in danger, right?”  No, asshole, the condo is not in danger.

I may not be able to eat, but the condo you eventually want to buy from me will still be available.  I pointed this out and shamed him.  His response “I’m sorry. I feel bad that i’m such a navel gazer. Just can’t help it.//I have a therapist, btw.”

Yeah.  Amazing.

I just spoke with BFD who again does not listen when I am speaking about something he does not want to hear at that moment.  It’s actually quite shocking to me when it happens.  Like, again?!!!!

Meanwhile, I am missing LP terribly.  LP, who actually listens.  LP, who wants to hear what I have to say because I want to say it.  He is away at a big important thing.  I texted him this morning best wishes for a successful day, which I knew he loved.  Instead of telling him how I felt — miss you! — I just let him know I want him to be well.

That’s the difference, and, frankly, it’s why we’re together right now.  We’re very self-centered, but our first thoughts are never “omg, how does this affect me?”

I have stopped posting every day for no good reason except that I am boring, busy, and giddily involved in a new relationship where we’re being adorable for no good reason.

I mean, how interesting would “googled LP again, he’s even cooler than I thought” be?  Okay, maybe a little interesting . . .

I am dealing with BFD-related fallout from my friends, who are “supportively” reminding me “We like him, we just don’t like him with you.”  Except they don’t like him.  They don’t even know him.  They like the idea of him because he’s cool and a big fucking deal.  He only existed for them because of me.  BFD is a good person — he is kind and generous — he’s just a terrible boyfriend who is almost pathologically ill-suited for me.

He’s what I thought I wanted and the fact that he loved me — and frankly still does, in his way — meant something to me.  But the fact remains that he was terrible for me and I was terrible for him.  It’s okay and it happens.  We should have been happy together.  We had some things in common, we’re smart and cultured, we shared philanthropic passions, we had energetic, great sex.  It wasn’t enough.  It could never have been enough.

Relationships are about compromise and sacrifice.  Since I am a serial monogamist in long relationships, I always tell my friends that you have to spend the first few months learning to speak the same language, knowing that when he says “X” he actually means “I hated when my mother did that and it’s making me stabby.”

BFD and I knew each other well in some important ways, but there were so many gaps on a purely day-to-day level, and yet we knew each other that way, too.  It’s easy to dismiss what we had.  JerkFace loves to refer to it as “my friendship” with BFD.  Because JerkFace is an AssHole.  I refuse to play that game — we cared for each other, we loved each other, we took care of each other in small ways, and we enjoyed our time together.  We were still ill-suited for each other and my hope is that BFD will find someone who will make him happy, who will embrace his quirks and idiosyncrasies, and who will be more confident in telling him “no.”

I rarely felt like myself with him.  I was frustrated that he did not know me as successful and confident.  When he saw me that way, it was amazing, but I was withdrawn and tentative with him, which is not how I am.

(Yes, you all knew this all along.  And I adore you for it.)

I kept hoping that if I did what I was supposed to, if my deal closed, then it would shift the balance of power.  And it might have.  But the lingering doubt in my head was that it still wasn’t right . . . that I was bored, which is the kiss of death for me.  And I was bored.

The main thing I look for in a partner is really someone I find interesting.  I stayed with A for years because he was smart and funny and had such a unique perspective.  He’s also a guru, really, and fascinating.  I still love hanging out and talking to him and we’ve known each other nearly a decade.

That is a very high bar for a new person.  Interesting and able to hold my attention.

I am not certain that LP will be able to hold my attention long-term, but we had an extremely intense conversation on the Thursday night of that first week.  It was fascinating and exhilarating to connect with him intellectually, though he is much smarter than I am.  I mentioned one of my areas of philosophic interest . . . he had written on it for publication.  Of course.  It’s obscure and it’s a particular interest for us both, which is extremely cool.

LP and I have expressed some amused frustration that it took us so long to reconnect.  We are wistful about missed opportunities, etc., but as I remind him, we would not have been ready.  Truly, I was not ready until the moment I knew I had to call him.  I credit JFG (JerkFace’s Girlfriend) for finally kicking my ass when I was most receptive to it and telling me “you deserve to be happy!”  Right!  I do!  But I was not there before.  As soon as she said that and I acknowledged how deeply unhappy I was and that I deserved more, I thought about LP.  No matter how wonderful it would have been to have been with him during the festival or at a dinner or for my birthday or at my cousin’s wedding, we were not ready for each other.

I often jump from relationship to relationship.  I am rarely single, and, if I am single, I have a close friend who escorts me places and takes me to dinner.  Yeah, I know. Even now that I am dating LP, I still have N escorting me to cultural stuff, W taking me to dinners and parties, and BP being BP.

This feels different.  He’s very involved and present.  He’s very warm and open.

I am enjoying this feeling of overwhelming happiness.  I am not overthinking it.  I am, instead, trusting how I feel.  Trusting him.  Trusting my instincts.

LP, who had been working like mad all week and weekend and moving and being a dad, wanted to pick me up at 9 after he’d wrapped up at the office on Sunday night to show me his new house.

He was delayed and it was starting to get late. Before he arrived, after confirming he’d be picking me up, he texted “Can you stay over?”

Well, that was unexpected, although I had mentioned to him when he was in his sick bed that I wished I had stayed. Still, it’s a school night and he goes to work ridiculously early, so I responded back, yes, I can, and threw a toothbrush and moisturizer into my purse, just in case.

We are taking the sex thing slowly, deliberately, so I knew he just wanted to spend the night wrapped around me, and, I agreed, knowing my period had just started, which took sex absolutely off the table.

He was visibly exhausted when he pulled up, and I slid into the car, and he held my hand on my lap. I told him quickly about my situation. He was disappointed, but recovered quickly. We would not have been having sex (this is only date 5, after all, and we’d agreed to slow slow slow), but it certainly limited the range of options.

His new house is about 15 blocks from my building, maybe fewer. It’s a straight shot from my neighborhood to his, so we held hands and talked a little in the car, and he told me that, in the spirit of full honesty which we have pledged [er, we did??? I think I pledged vulnerability and no games, which is a little different than full honesty, thinks the woman kinda-sorta-maybe still dating her ex boyfriend/potential business partner/owner of her once and perhaps future car], I would not be the first female in his bed in the new house. I told him as long as she was not over 8 years old, we’re fine. Otherwise, I laughed, we were going to have a problem.

He pulled up to his back gate and parked, telling me the first change he would make to the house. He walked me through the garden and the house looked so beautiful. He had clearly been home to change before he picked me up because our path was beautifully illuminated. It’s charming, an historic home that has been well remodeled and updated, and he loved showing me the very quick tour. The house contains nothing but his study and his bedroom at this point. Every other room is empty. When we reached his room, he started to kiss me passionately. I stopped him, so he could show me the bath and closet. He laughed, and said, you want me to finish the tour??? Yes, of course, as I’d already been kissing him in each room.

With the tour concluded, we kissed more passionately and got ready for bed. He stepped into the closet to change into pajamas and hang up my jacket and I just took off my clothes, leaving on my underwear and borrowed a big soft t-shirt from him. He climbed into “his side” of the bed, and I surprised him by climbing on top of him, and completely taking over the reins, kissing him, teasing him, etc. as we talked here and there. He said, you know, I know your secret . . . you are incredibly sweet. You are just incredibly sweet, and I know you don’t want people to know that about you. You have this hard surface, but you’re just an m & m. I reminded him that’s we’d agreed on the “first date” that he was an m & m encased in another m & m. I told him I expected him to keep my secret. He is right that I am far more open and loving than I want people to know. I prefer to feign indifference — see, for example, my relationship with BFD — rather than open myself up. So far, with LP, I am going open and vulnerable and it’s scary as hell.

Finally, after about an hour, he stopped me before anything got too far along, saying, “you’re amazing, but we know we’re good at sex, . . . let’s see how we do with snuggling.”

[The "we know we're good at sex" comes not from experience with each other. We know that we're very open and evolved sexually. We have shared a lot of things and we are very compatible. We have had relationships that replaced actual intimacy with sex, as he said last night as he held me tightly against him, and he is righter than he knows with BFD. So that is the primary reason we are both waiting. I drew a hard line because of my monogamy thing and he has listened carefully. I told him on our first date that I am only having "sex" with him if he is my boyfriend and he has respected that. As he considered the line I drew before our official first date, holding the line as I wavered a bit, he realized that we needed to postpone sex. No matter how challenging it is. And it is, especially when we're each barely dressed in bed.]

With that, he wrapped his arms around me, held my hand, kissed my neck, and we started talking in the dark. A few minutes in, I said, you know, I was very angry with you this week. I heard nothing from you at all for 5 days. I know you’re busy, but you should have shot me a text or something.

I stopped speaking. I think he started to apologize. I do know that I started to turn towards him to look at him and kiss it away and he stopped me. He said, this is important to you and I need to feel and process this. Then he was quiet. Finally, he said, “You’re right, you know. You’re asking me for a de minimus nothing response and I did not even do that. I am so very sorry.” I told him I know, but I knew that if I told him, he would do better. He pulled me even tighter to him. I also said to him, look, I am a very good Penelope, but I don’t want to live that life anymore. I mean, I can do it for a time, but that’s not what I want. [Meaning, I will wait for you while you conquer worlds, but I am unsatisfied doing it for long periods of time. Be here with me.]

We spoke a little more, mostly about light things. He told me that he loved our 4th date, our quick dinner downtown, and he loved the fun of being somewhere new that was better than we’d expected. It felt to the two of us, and I cannot remember if he said this, but this is what he meant and how I felt, the closest to real life of anything we’d done up until last night. It was a relationship date, with us out exploring a new place together, etc. It’s the kind of thing we both want to do, to be together sharing new experiences. That we both need and want that is telling.

Still embracing me and holding my hand, he fell soundly asleep.

I did not.

New bed, new place, new guy. It’s been years since I have slept in bed with someone, which I told him before he nodded off. It took me a couple of hours to fall asleep. I was in pain, having a bit of an allergic reaction, and it was hard to relax fully. He was tossing and turning a bit, but in his sleep, he sought me out no matter our positioning, held my hand or my arm or my thigh, kissed the top of my head. At times, I became his pillow, with his head on my back or resting on my shoulders. It was sweet and tender and wonderful.

I did not mind lying next to him in the dark, although I did get up at one point to check my purse and his bathroom and closet for a benadryl, tylenol pm, or even an aspirin. I had only excedrin, which would have been counter-productive. I did glance at his closet and saw his beautiful wardrobe. Unlike BFD’s closet or BP’s, LP’s closet is slightly messy and his elegant ties were slightly rumpled. (As he walked out, dressed, this morning, he acknowledged the same, while pointing out his “goth” look, which it was for a gorgeous Italian ensemble, but he said he figured, eh, I just moved and I worked all weekend.)

Still in the closet which is between the bedroom and the bathroom and still bored, I flipped his wallet open to check his birthday. I know that sounds strange and I could have just asked him when he awoke, but I wanted to know his astrological sign. Weird, right? We are a significantly better match than me and BFD. In fact, he’s the same as A and as W: “This is a most exhilarating combination. You both share the same likes and dislikes. You are both always on the go, craving excitement, love and fun. This is truly a link made in heaven. . . . Your common interests and lusty passionate nature bring about outrageous social and sexual encounters.” So far, so good.

He is a very solidly built man. He is not skinny like Q the model, nor muscular and cut like BFD, but he has a great shape and a little belly, a slightly shorter version of A — nice broad shoulders, but very solid, very manly, not unlike many of my relatives. I can easily wrap my arms around him, which I did when I needed to have him switch positions while asleep. Because I had a decent amount of time to look at him unobserved as he slept, I can say definitively that I think he’s handsome and, as I told him this morning, when I was resting my head on his shoulder, I am really crazy about him.

I awoke him before 5 am the next morning inadvertently. I needed to go to the bathroom. I also needed to remove, to the best of my ability, the mascara and eyeliner now migrated under my eyes. I went to bed in full makeup, but since I wear mineral stuff, I was not concerned about a transfer to the pillows or a desperate need to wash my face. Because I was i there for a while, he became a little concerned when he awoke. I climbed back in and he nodded off for a couple of minutes and we kissed and talked for a few minutes until he decided it was time for coffee. It was only 530. He told me to stay in bed and he made decent coffee. I like it a little stronger, but whatever. We talked and laughed (he’s really hilarious and wildly inappropriate and a performer, of course) and watched news and then mtv until he decided he had to take a shower and get ready for work. We talked about décor decisions and I gave him my opinion about something I thought would work even better than he was thinking and he liked it. He loves that I love his house.

I could see myself spending significant time there . . .

As I put back on my earrings, I mentioned that I’d been very careful to leave no evidence of my presence. (I’d worn minimal jewelry in the first place and I’d made sure there was nothing that said a woman had been present — unflushable wrappers went back into my bag because I did not want his kid to be aware that someone had been there. It’s up to him to tell her at some point and there is no reason for me to do that, and certainly not so soon.) He teased, okay, but you know, I would have just added it to the pile of earrings, panties, and [sex toys] other women leave behind.

Yes, very cute. I called him a brat, which he said no one ever says about him, which I find incredibly hard to believe.

I made the bed while he was showering, stretched a bit, and was getting dressed as he came back out, looking all kinds of hot in his very fabulous lawyer ensemble. As I was not fully dressed, this meant he needed to make out with me again for a couple of minutes.

He loved having me with him and he told me again and again how attracted to me he had been since the beginning. He thinks I am beautiful and he’d fantasized about me since the night we’d met, joking about his own ridiculousness that he could not stop thinking about a woman “living with some other dude.” He spends a lot of time talking about my overall hotness and how he cannot believe he has such a hot woman — in his bed, in his room, in his car, half-naked, etc. As he is an attractive man who is ridiculously well-paid, he could easily replace me with a younger, hotter, still appropriate woman, but I do appreciate the sentiment and I love that he loves my body and thinks I am very hot. I feel more attractive because I am more attractive to him. It’s a wonderful thing.

We really had a lovely morning and a quick, no traffic drive back to my place and he was still at his office before 7 am. As I sat here, in my own bed, contemplating the night, and writing this out, I could smell his cologne on my skin from when I had hugged him, and I loved it. I texted him the same, still before 6 am.

Other items of interest: he deleted his fb account because it was challenging when he was going through things with his ex, and apparently he had/has a stalker who also tracked him on fb (okay, so that we have in common); and he’s very obviously deeply engaged in therapy. He had three books that I saw that each related to issues with which he is dealing with his ex and his parents — narcissism, codependence, and recovery. A little scary, but he is dealing with them and I would much rather have LP as the open loving man he is confronting these issues than in deep denial about them. At some point, I will ask if his therapist is okay with him being in a relationship. I believe the answer is “no,” but I am a little fuzzy on BFD’s therapist vs LP’s. A too is in therapy. I do not drive them too it, but I do tend to have some enlightened men in my life. I think he said his therapist told him no relationships for a while, but again, that could have been BFD or A.

Last night, I was steeling myself to spend time alone, missing him, still a little angry. Now, I know we’re doing very well. Our big challenge is continuing to keep the physical/sexual side of our relationship in check while we get to know each other, which frankly is a great problem to have. He has to deal with his ex and his work and keeping everything in balance; while I continue to juggle the men in my life, but after spending our first night together, I am so excited about more nights to come.

I awoke before my alarm this morning. I don’t remember the last time I set an alarm for anything. My alarm clock was only on the correct time because A stayed here last month. For me, it had been flashing since the last time the power went out.

But I set an alarm for 630, since my visiting family was arriving at 7 am. I was determined to sleep in as long as possible before heading off on a 3 hour round trip journey to see something for 45 minutes. It was all about the quality time in the car.

At 622, I awoke and my cell phone was flashing. I checked it and it was a photo from LP, which he’d sent the night before around 930 and I had not seen. He was smiling and I could see in the darkness behind him that he was standing inside his new house. Well, that’s interesting.

I did not reply back. It was really early. I was still really annoyed. I had to get ready to see the family.

I have the best family. It’s big, it’s boisterous, and it’s lovely. We are all really crazy about each other and we’re each other’s biggest fans and rivals. It’s the best. I always assure my younger cousins (I am the oldest of more than a baker’s dozen) that anything you want to do or any mistake you’ve made, someone else has already done it and you will be fine. We have each other’s backs, we keep each other’s secrets. I am who I am because of my family. My aunts and uncles are in a couple of special cases, my brothers and sisters, and we have wonderful relationships with each other. My mother, though not the oldest, is the matriarch to her younger siblings, including my uncle J, and our bonds are very special.

Anyway, a cohort of 5 of my relatives J, his wife M, and three of their kids, arrived at my building with an enormous starbucks coffee for me and we headed off. It was so much fun. M, my aunt by marriage to J, and I have known each other for almost 20 years now, which is amazing, and we’ve always been close, so we chatted and caught up in the front, though it had only been a month since we’d seen each other.

She wanted to know of course, what happened to BFD and who the new guy was, so I filled her in on the gossip and told J the cool thing about LP’s ex and he agreed it was really cool, and we just had a blast.

It turns out I have an encyclopedic knowledge of this state, at least in the opinion of out of staters, so I filled them in on everything as we went. When we arrived at our destination, it was amazingly cool and they loved it. It’s important to the history of this state and I find it quite moving. Because it’s rather small, I was able to spend time talking to each of them separately at one point or another, hearing what they’re doing, pointing out things of interest, and reforging those important bonds. The teenagers are growing into such wonderful people and it was so great to be with them.

On our way back, we stopped and went shopping and I helped my aunt M find what she needed as a gift for the bride. When I walked along with J and three of the kids later, they were laughing at all of their dad’s stupid jokes and I reminded them that he tried all of them out on me first, tormenting me like the little sister he did not technically have. They love that we have that relationship because he’s the youngest of a large family and with me, they see a different role for him.

We finished the drive back to town and dropped J and the youngest off and then went to the mall for last minute things with the two older girls. Again, I got to spend time with my aunt and really enjoy her. I think we’re only 6 years apart. She was a prosecutor who went on to become a judge, and she is tough, but fair, which is all you could ever want from someone sitting on the bench. She manages her kids, her life, and her wonderful, goofy husband with amazing skill and grace. She’s really an inspiration, though she has no idea, no matter how often I tell her. To me and many of our other cousins, her marriage is the most functional we’ve ever seen.

Being with J, who I love dearly, and is now pictured with me on my fb profile photo, and his wife, and their kids was wonderful. It kept going all of the positive things we kicked off at the wedding last month and we made plans for me to visit them soon and for the next wedding in May.

After a wonderful day with BP, I needed this regrounding and reconnection. It was so special.

They dropped me off to head to the wedding and then to head off early the next morning for home, so we said our goodbyes on the curb.

After I got upstairs, I decided to text LP back, at whom I was still incensed. I sent him a mild “adorable photo. is that you in your new house?” he said that it was and then added “Sorry we both had such busy wretched weeks.” I corrected him that mine had been bad, but I have had a couple of really great days. He told me he had his kid tonight, but needed “need some serious adult time soon.” I asked if he meant debating issues of the day or playing bridge, but he asked if I wanted to see the new house, which, duh.

We exchanged messages for about 90 minutes straight and made tentative plans for Sunday night. Not holding my breath because I know why they are just tentative, but I really want to see him and he really wants to see me. He needs “serious adult time” so I asked if we would debate the issues of the day or play bridge. Instead, he wants to show me his new house, which I am delighted to see.

When things are going very, very well for me, I feel as though I can I see everything around me, and that I can see everyone else’s view of everything around me, too. I have not felt this way in a very long time — maybe 18 months, maybe longer.

Instead, I have been trapped inside my own head, unable to clearly see what’s happening around me, and certainly incapable of seeing how others are reacting to me.

So much of what I do has to occur in this heightened reality. I need to plan moves weeks, months, years ahead, so I have to know what everyone is thinking and feeling and planning all the time — what they say and what they mean. I have to discern their hidden agendas, play to their strengths, sidestep (or take advantage of ) their weaknesses, and often convince them of something the opposite of what they think they want, though it’s a better solution.

I had a conference with BP and some potential clients on Thursday and I felt a hint of that vision. It was a great conference. I felt strong and confident and I was able to persuade them that not only did I have a far better solution for them, but that it was their idea in the first place. By the end, they wanted to hire and date me.

On Friday, I was tasked with a rather complicated challenge — set a last-minute meeting with a high muckety-muck, to whom I was not connected. So, I took a shot. Made a cold call on my own. Set the meeting, aggressively, then moved it back because BP was late.

I wore a short-sleeved black sweater dress, black patent pumps, and my hair down rather than my usual chignon. It was a little sexy for a meeting because the dress is a little low, but it shows me off to good effect without looking as though I am trying. I changed 8 times in 45 minutes trying to convey an insouciance, while looking sexy as hell. I was convinced going in that the meeting would be a bust, so I was dressed for my date with BP.

Also, it’s sort of important that I look as though I’ve cracked an issue of a style magazine from time to time. In the meeting, I mentioned “casually,” that X is actually an important thing for fall. If you see the [month] issue, they had a huge spread featuring it.

I could feel BP smiling next to me. First, I was right. And second, I was in command. I said it because I saw they needed me to. They wanted to feel that I was who I purported to be, but somehow, better. They wanted to leave the conference and tell their coworkers, “casually,” you know X is an important thing for fall.

Was it true? Yes. Did it matter? Absolutely not.

As I realized I leaned forward from time to time in the meeting, so I reached into my bag and pulled out my go-to silk scarf and threw it around my shoulders, as though I were simply a little chilly. It looked effortlessly chic, and blocked my cleavage.

We kept them enthralled in this meeting for two hours, late on a Friday afternoon. By the end, we got exactly what we wanted, plus hints and tricks to work the system. It was an out of the park home run. BP was so happy, he started to express loudly his pleasure at how things had gone before the elevator doors closed. I shushed him, and as soon as they closed, embraced him. We were beaming, floating back to the parking garage as he said, in amazement, you did that. I can’t believe you just did that. You really pulled it off.

And I did.

I listened carefully, paid attention to everyone’s body language and did my motherfucking job, at which I’ve been really sucky for months.

I sold the hell out of who I am and who he is and who we are and what we do and it was perfect. No false notes. No weirdness. No facial expressions I wish I could take back. No fear that fear inadvertently undermined my overall message. No whiff of desperation. Just tight and controlled. It was smooth from start to finish and the parts that were actually rough, I smoothed as we went so no one was the wiser.

I helped resurrect our original plan, which had fallen victim to the global financial crisis. It’s not “fuck you” money — the walk away money BFD earned for example — but it is enough for my mother to retire and for me to live comfortably without having to constantly worry.

As we left the garage, we debated where to go for dinner. There were really only four options: his favorite 5 star restaurant, my favorite 5 star restaurant, a 4 star restaurant neither of us had been to yet, and a slightly more casual homey restaurant where we’d had many, many drunken dinners, lunches, and where I’d had many fabulous brunches. We opted for the homey restaurant.

It was perfect. Our food was outstanding — 2 appetizers (a fabulous crab cake he liked better than the famous one at his favorite place), 2 cocktails each, dinner, and then a ridiculous dessert. I was actually queasy by the end.

BP gave me dating advice — he thinks I should continue to date both BFD and LP and is wondering how long I can keep them both in stasis before one or the other decides that he is or should be the only man in my life. He genuinely likes BFD and sees why I like him, but he also likes the idea of LP and sees how happy he makes me.

He told me not to give up on LP yet.

We laughed for hours and truly enjoyed each other. We also kind of picked up our incredibly hot waiter. So, there’s that.

I got home still early and fell asleep by 10, awoke to set alarms for my early trip with my cousins, and went soundly back to sleep.

At the end of a hideously bad day, I met W for a glass of wine at my neighborhood dive bar. It’s not a real dive bar. It’s a hipster dive bar, but I love love love it. They have excellent food (see, not a real dive bar) and I like the energy of the place.

We walked in and the place was packed, so we glanced around, saw no seats and walked out, standing on the rain-soaked patio, debating where to go next.

Then my beloved ex A walked out to say hello, pint glass in hand. We had a great chat, with my assuming he was there on a date, since he made no move to invite us back inside. He was not, he was sitting at the bar by himself, so W glanced back in, saw a table half had opened up, and we wandered back in with A.

I had the best time! I really loved it.

First, I love A. Everyone who knows A loves A. He’s a wonderful guy, especially in 20 minute increments. (An old joke for us, but not far from the truth . . . he makes an amazing first impression and he’s completely charming at cocktail parties, despite being “a barbarian,” his favorite way to describe himself. It’s not true, but he has chosen an interesting path through life and he’s someone I still view as a guru. So does everyone else who meets him. Also, adorably cute and impish.)

We were incompatible in a lot of ways (especially sexually), but we soldiered on for years regardless.

So, we had a blast.

On the day on which I had my eating disorder freakout with my weight dipping to 112, I had a glass of wine, about 1/2 of a basket of amazingly great tater tots, followed by the bun-less sliders I’ve been dreaming about for two weeks. The guys, who have been friends with each other for nearly a decade, drank beer.

A said, look, I am very disappointed you broke up with the rich guy [BFD], because I really want to buy our condo from you. He continued: “you need to get married and get the fuck out . . . You have a year, so make it happen.” W assured him I had another rich guy on deck, although W is not so sure that LP is still involved.

[W thinks LP is trying to power-play me, by ignoring me this week. I believe that LP is absurdly busy with work, and with a lot of drama going on with his ex. I am incapable of accepting that someone with whom I have gone out four times in two weeks, who loves kissing me, who has shared the most emotionally painful and sexually intimate things with me, who desperately wants to have sex with me, but who has respected my boundaries, would just drop me after we had agreed we'd be getting naked, although not yet doing the full-on sex thing. I mean, it's possible, but come on.]

A has had a girlfriend for so long he refuses to tell me when they started dating. They met while we were together, but he insists there was no overlap. I believe him. She does what he does and they met in school. That’s all I know. Oh, and her name. They’ve been dating for, I think, about two freaking years. Amazing. He seems happy, but is intellectually unsatisfied. It happens.

W has a girlfriend, the faux-hemian golddigger who is trying to get knocked up by him. W, for all of his wonderful qualities, picks truly horrible mates. Shrill, dumb, and often crazy. Seriously. I could tell you stories — death threats, suicide threats, intentional “accidents.” W is a successful professional, a prominent socially-connected donor, and he dates beautiful and incredibly immature women, who have an incredibly outable thing in common. All except me and the faux-hemian golddigger. She tells everyone she is desperate to get knocked up by him. He knows this. What he doesn’t really know is her. They’ve been dating for 3-4 months and they are getting ready to move in together, she’s redecorating his house, and she wants to be pregnant like now. It’s insane because he’s ambivalent. He wants a kid, but doesn’t know if he wants to be with her, and he has been incapable of processing that having a kid with her does not mean he will have any access to said kid. Anyway . . .

Regardless of the choices we make in our romantic lives, I am so fortunate to have really wonderful men who know me intimately on both an emotional and physical level and who still love me, despite knowing me as well as they do. They are not the only exes floating through my life, or still in orbit around me, as BP says. From the Alternate Reality, who remains passionate about me, though we never dated, and would do anything in the world for me — and means it, to BP, who tells me often that we will be together again in the future — even as he then tells me about his new girlfriendS, to E, who is still one of my best friends, to XP, these are men who are still my friends, who still love me, despite the fact we’re not together anymore, or in one case, never were. Even BFD and I are still friends . . . through everything, we’re still friends. We still talk constantly and we still love each other.

That is true among almost all of my exes. We still love each other. Our bond is still strong. We are still important in each other’s lives.

Knowing this makes it easier to endure some of my present trials — the break with BFD, the disappearance of LP. I know at the end of the day that I am loved. That I have been loved dearly. That I will love and be loved again.

All this from a fabulous couple of hours with my two favorite exes at the end of a long, painful day, during a long, painful week.

Thanks, guys!