Loverville is the best place for me to live.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

August 30, 2024

I’m considering taking a lover. You have to say “taking a lover” like Carrie Bradshaw does when she tells the girls she’s taking a lover (that would be Aleksandr Petrovsky played by a delicious Mikhail Baryshnikov).

I haven’t taken a lover since Don. Wow. Long time ago now. Two years. He was the best fucking lover. I tell ya. That guy. Miss him like crazy. He’s doing well, coincidentally. We texted the other day and he told me he’d just bought a house with the woman he met, who was his age, for whom I graciously stepped aside and encouraged him to date. They’re very happy. I’m happy for him. But I do miss him. Every other Sunday we spent together — perfection. Lover Schedule Perfection. Alas…

OK.

Well then.

I’ve found someone who very well may be “lover ready”. That means he’s sexy, charming, smart, witty, successful, and finds me irresistible. It’s hard to resist someone who finds you irresistible. He’s much younger, that demographic that quite appeals. You don’t have to worry about him worrying you’ll want to marry him and have babies, and you don’t have to worry he’ll fall in love with you and actually want to pursue any of that May-December ridiculousness. Well, sometimes that happens, but it’s out of the question for me, so Loverville is the best place for me to live. And the really good ones, those whom I deem ultra-worthy, are the ones who’ve already dated BBWs and are sensitive to what I call “fat girl logistics”. And as thus, they are “lover ready”.

I’ll keep you posted. As I always do.