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I’m back in town and back to the grind post-Thanksgiving holiday. The kids and I had a nice time with family in my hometown, then returned to San Francisco on Saturday early afternoon.

Hayden arrived at my place soon after we returned. We all went to see Moana, then went out for Italian food. As soon as the kids were in bed, Hayden and I retreated to my bedroom for some passion. Yum. It was tender and emotional.

We were both exhausted so we opted out of watching a movie and instead watched an episode of Arrested Development and Wilfred while sipping vodka cocktails. I told him that I’d like to reign in the drinking, as I can tell my tolerance has gotten quite a bit higher due to drinking so often with him. Two beers used to be plenty for me; now Hayden and I typically split a 6-pack then open a bottle of wine every evening we’re together (3x/week). All the extra calories are sure to cause weight gain. He agreed that cutting back was a good idea.

We had sex again before drifting off to sleep. It was both passionate and so sweet. I was overcome with the desire to tell him I loved him but restrained myself, thinking that doing so for the first time during sex would be in poor taste.

My daughter woke us up the next morning by shouting into my bedroom, “Hayden, will you play *name of game I don’t remember* with me now?” I told her it was too early and that she could ask again later.

Hayden and I snuggled for the next hour. It was blissful. My oxytocin levels were through the roof. I had an internal struggle about whether or not I should tell him I loved him. My head told me it might scare him off… but my heart told me that it wouldn’t and it was likely he felt the same. The way he looked at me was undeniable.

Finally, I threw caution to the wind, looked at him, and said, “I love you.” I didn’t care if he didn’t feel the same way. I wanted him to know how I felt.

But I wasn’t surprised when he said it back. I was elated.

We went about our day as usual. Hayden played a game with my daughter, I made breakfast, then we took the kids to the neighborhood park. Hayden left at 1 pm.

As he kissed me goodbye at the front door, he said, “I love you and will see you again tomorrow night.” Aww. We couldn’t tear ourselves away from each other, kissing constantly for what was probably 10 minutes straight. When we finally parted and he started walking away, he turned around halfway down my driveway and saw me blow him one last kiss. He smiled.

Joaquin texted me on Saturday night, when I was with Hayden, and asked if I was free because he was going to be coming through San Francisco on his way home from visiting family. I told him I wasn’t because it was my kid weekend. He responded, “I’m looking forward to seeing you this week.”

I asked him if he was available to talk on the phone last night. It was time to break the news to him. He said yes and asked what time. When I told him 10 pm, after the kids were in bed, I didn’t hear back from him.

I think he suspects something. One time, soon after we had started dating, I asked him if was available to chat on the phone spur-of-the-moment and he later admitted to freaking out about that, wondering if I was going to tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore.

I’ll try to once again set up a phone conversation with him when I hear from him next.

I’ve been practicing guitar a lot. My fingers are more sore than I remember them being when I was a beginner in my 20s. It’s possible my memory is simply unclear.

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