It turns out that David took Cheryl and me to a great restaurant in the Meatpacking District of New York. The restaurant was really fancy and he really put on the charm that is until he noticed that there were a lot of russian women there in sequin mini dresses. Luckily we were almost finished eating because it was only a matter of time before he would start speaking  with a total russian accent . As it was he was able to get out a few Nyets before we left.

Then we took a walk on the High Line, a park on an old elevated train track. It was drizzling slightly and it was really nice.

Yesterday my sister in law told me that dave had visited his family with the new babe.  Any thoughts of my  being over this went out the window when I heard that.  I don’t know why it bothered me so much. It’s his family, not mine.

I should have known that  he had that in mind when he insisted on telling his father about us. I thought that there was really no point because his father is almost 100 and if the past was any sign, he wouldn’t see dave any time soon.  Well I was wrong.

I know I don’t have a leg to stand on but I hate him for that more than for any other thing he’s done.

Up to this point I thought that he doesn’t hate me. he must feel sad to think of me eating dinner alone and being by myself when I’m scared or lonely but now I don’t think so. No that’s not what I think. I think I hate him and I don’t care what he thinks.

He’s no friend of mine.