My cat. My cat makes me never want to have a baby. I love him, sure, but after one week of ruined sleep patterns I am a wreck. Daniel and I are arguing over co-sleeping vs. crying it out. We're searching out food that does not contain grain. I'm making home-made toys and sprouting oats for him to nibble. God. A real baby would be this x 1000.

For the last couple of weeks, I've been talking with my ex. The whole situation is my fault and is short sighted. He's trying to convince me to move back to Vancouver into his new apartment. He's telling me that if I returned, that he'd ask me to marry him. Etc, etc.. I'm selfish to allow him to have hope. I mean, I suppose that a part of me would love to ditch everything I've created here to return to him and the reckless lifestyle he affords. Our relationship was very different from what I have with Daniel. Daniel and I are best friends. Tim and I were lovers. There are pros and cons to each situation, and I suppose I'd prefer to have the stability of best friends vs. the explosive nature of lovers. But the conclusion is that I must be missing those fireworks more than a little to venture down my little piece of memory lane.