It's Friday afternoon, a couple of days later. I'm still glowing in the aftermath of my fantastic date with Marcus, weird little scene with Lydia notwithstanding. I'm still a little angry about that, but it's not anyone's fault – well, except Lydia's – and I certainly don't hold a grown woman's behavior against anybody else.
Despite that little hiccup, and despite the gloomy and worried tone that inevitably crept in when Marcus and I discussed some of our concerns around Charles, it was a marvelous evening. I don't know that I've ever felt so taken care of, so listened to, so considered.
Well, except the last time I went out with Marcus, that is.
I think he might be it, I muse to myself. I don't know how I'm going to reconcile that with the fact that I'm currently parading around as som
