"When your heart is an empty room."

Last night I looked hot. Seriously. Dressed as a serving wench for a Halloween party and laced tight into a corset, my ample bosom rose into a swell of cleavage that was not only awe inspiring, but should have had me flat on my back, dress pushed up around my waist. In other words, I looked fuckable. Any reasonable person would have tossed me into the bedroom and locked the door. But since I was with Holly, reason was in short supply.

There comes a point in a young woman's life when she realizes that she can't make someone love them no matter how hard she tries. It's a heartbreaking realization and my heart is breaking a little bit. I wish I could somehow explain my very complicated feelings for Holly and why I haven't been able to let go when I should have cut my losses long ago. Some of you think that I'm crazy especially since this has been going on for a while now. Why her? Why so much self inflicted consternation?

I had a brief view of how things could have been in the days after Provincetown. The connection was there loud and clear. No barriers. No interference. I finally saw what I had fought for, like the satisfying view from the top of Mount Everest, and I was the happiest I had been in a very long time. That, my friends, is why I wasn't able to let go. That sole belief that if you cleared away all the bullshit things would be amazing.

I can't keep fighting anymore. I can't make her love me. I probably have a better shot of convincing New York of my awesomeness. One day she'll realize that she had a shot at a really good thing, but I will have moved on.

So attention single lesbians of New York! Here I am. I'm not asking for much. Just to be loved and occasionally dragged into the bedroom when I'm dressed as a serving wench. I'll even make you pancakes in the morning after you have your way with me.