Beautiful Even

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Okay, so I'm sitting here looking at pictures. Not my pictures. No. No. I'm telling you. It always starts and ends with a girl. A pretty girl, if I'm completely honest. Alright. Alright. She's beautiful. It gets me every time. EVERY time. They're amazing. I'm dumbfounded. Thankfully, this one is unavailable otherwise I might be in real trouble. By unavailable I mean truly unavailable, on the-Friends'-Shelf-drinking-vodka-with-Tonya unavailable. Let me just say, it makes it a whole lot easier.

I said (as recently as last night) that I was looking for my next Rodeo. All I need is a single or married straight woman. I'm fresh out. The one I spoke of above? She's married and straight, as luck would have it. But she is also not the right kind of unavailable for me. Part of me may wish. She is a delightful distraction. And... Well... Yes. All that. However, I cannot and will not. Therefore, she is not my next Rodeo. Is that more about me than about her? Probably her, if I'm honest. Which I pride myself on being.

But still... It's fun to think about. It is. So sue me. She's pretty, beautiful even. More than that really. Which is why I did what I never do. I stalked her page. For pictures. Because I miss her. And because I wanted to. I could apologize, but I'm not going to. No crime in looking at what she posted for EVERYONE (including me) to see.

They trust me. They do. They are straight and friends with a known lesbian. They trust that, while I may flirt a little, I don't think of them as anything more than a friend. And that includes in the darkness of night when I'm really horny. For the most part, I'm good. I swear I am. Except when I get drunk and eat a snack size bag of ruffled potato chips on a Saturday night when two Saturday nights ago I was... It's then and only then that I begin perusing pictures. And really, it's only pictures. Pictures. Of a girl. Like I said - it always begins and ends with a girl. Especially one that's damnably pretty. Beautiful even. And on the Friends' Shelf. Where she belongs. Argh.

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