The Dymo is in the top drawer.

Talking to myself, I said, "I'm not certain that I would be friends with you."

In reply, I said, "I'm pretty certain that you are not. You are often a bit of a douche."

...

The last three or four times that I called her, I got no reply when one was required. I wondered if it was over. I don't know actually what it ever actually was but whatever it was seemed to have changed.

I called again today and I got an automated message that the phone was out, so I called another number that I had for her which got me to a voice mail messaging system. I left a message.

Time went by.

It was my understanding that we were going to meet in the morning.

The morning was nearly over.

It was out of my hands.

I went about other things.

Then I got a text, "sorry...were meeting there at 1:30...IHop". It's their family tradition to meet at this particular International House of Pancakes on Christmas; somewhere along the way, I had been invited and the one year I missed it: I guess it caused a scene.

So, then I wondered about those other messages. I wondered if they were ever received when I assumed that they were ignored.

Lately, I've been having to label a lot of things. Things that I've never labeled before because I never really had to define them. My relationship with her is one of those things.

We've known each other since high school. She says, "Your daughter," referring to her youngest child even though I'm certainly not her biological father. We've hung out together to the point were in some groups we're a couple but yet in other groups, the other of us is unknown. I have a set of keys to her house and a spare key to her car. We've traveled together to various parts of the world; we've shared a room but never a bed.

I guess her label would be 'friend'.

Thanks for listening.