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Dinner at pares. I made fennel lasagne, my sister E made a lovely orangey dessert, dad made a sweet potato and pumpkin soup. E's husband, V, awoke from his baby nap and sat back to the verandah door. The whole family together, the baby son, nephew and grandson (all in one 10kg package!), J, snoozed in a nearby bedroom. All idyllic, but I toed and got toeier as the night progressed. I had taken out $200 at lunch, and I guess from the moment I took out the cash, I was on a mission.

My body physically exuded its "hang out" chemicals so that until I physically hooked up with Mr mumbles, I was uncomfortable. I couldn't stop my foot tapping, I know I did not put in 100% attention at the dinner. I could not focus on anything, yet I had taken extra metro that morning. It was only day two since my previous shot (2am Sunday morning to Tues evening is not long, chemically speaking). But I have to do better, not just scoring whenever I have the cash.

I ran E down to the local chemist after dinner to get some nappies and milk formulae, but they were out of the formulae. Out of such things it seems are domestic lives built. Where I would have a 30 minute drive to give all my cash to a stoned man who describes the mother of his child as "putrid", she and husband V would change little J and planned the next day's activities.

We all choose and not all look back totally happy with those choices. But we cannot change all choices, myself no more than sister E un become a mum.

I wanted to say that tonight I bought a half-weight in the half-hope that my ex would swing by and I could give it to her. But I spoke with the M of Jet and Michelle, and she softly suggested that I move on. Not to give up, but rather to focus on moving on, on the future. And if S comes back into my life while my life progresses, then well and good, but don't plan for S's return.

Nothing I would not have told myself had I clinically analysed tech situation, S's responses and lack of responses to my communications. And to be honest, S has been no different since she moved out than she was when she lived here. Distant, untouchable, sad. If i could not hep her when she was here maybe I never can. I know gabo has made me negative in my outlook, I mean, I still love her dearly, but gabo lets you see stuff without the filters of hope and longing.

Or does it?

Stoned, I have sent her an email saying "If you do not respond within a week I assume I have been totally dropped and you want me out of your life"

I will send her an SMS in the morning so she knows an email is there for her, so she is forewarned. She will say it is unfair and "weird" of me, but the more people I meet the less weird I feel about doing such a thing. I know she will reword my actions so to friends I seem a bizarre jellyfish, but what else could I do?

What else could I do?

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