At this stage (stages for me are abundant, fickle and erratic) I have a solid footing and a poor to pathetic personality. I am comfortable with this. I worry that no woman will ever again find the time to think the pulp of me appealing, but then I can't predict the advancing stages. And anyway, women are not on my radar. The whole idea of second loves waves at me like a sail from the cavern of the storm. Every woman is a question and a definite answer. Truth be told, my affections are going nowhere until she comes back and I get another crack at it. I'm dedicated to my purgatory. I'm getting on with my life, but making all plans around next summer. Every day I pray she doesn't meet him before then, and then remind myself of the chief importance of her happiness. I feel her eyes on me every time I play with the dog, am kind to a friend, or think I look good walking. I'm a terrific mess.

But my next stage might find me hilarious again, charming, thoughtful, considerate, caring, clear minded, friendly, not easily angered, humble, successful, widely liked and respected, engaged, excited, adventurous, confident, grounded, replete with new, practical talents, sober, employed, possessing a cell phone and an automobile, unencumbered by anxiety or secondary disturbances, having taste, tact, and tenderness, with libido unharmed, bursting with stories, basking in future endeavors, happy, and otherwise totally fatherhood material. By summer.