Dear Baroness, 
Do you think men and women can be friends? Do you think that if a woman is out for an evening, having a good time and gets talking to a group of men, that she should assume they want only one thing from her? Do you think she is leading them on if she accepts their invitation to join their party? 
I know how I feel about the subject, but others disagree with me and I want to hear what you have to say about the matter. 
Signed, 
One of the Boys
 
Darling One of the Boys, 
What a question for the ages. Can women and men be friends? I say yes. But it’s admittedly complex. Does the man have any sort of sexual attraction to the woman? Vice versa? Do they have a history? Does one like the other in that way but the other does not? Is one married to the friend of another? 
Here is the thing, darlings, if you have repressed or unadmitted feelings for anyone, you are not being honest and thereby you have a relationship based upon a lie, in essence. But on the other hand, it really serves no one to profess your love to your best friend’s wife, now does it? This will only make future dinner parties awkward and in fact, you may not ever be invited again.
If, as you’ve said in your example, you are out socially and get talking to a group of the opposite sex, there is no reason why you cannot co-mingle without the intention of shagging. You raise a glass together, perhaps cut a rug to Bizarre Love Triangle at 3am and try to yell something complimentary about the sweet throwback dance moves of the other over the din. Perfectly innocent.
If you’re at a club (not really the place to be conversing), some would argue that if you agree to a dance, you’re in essence agreeing to more. Which is utter poppycock.  If the men are on a bachelor party at a private table with bottles of flowing booze and they offer some to you and you say yes, well, then, guess what? You still have no obligation to accept the horizontal invitation of the man mountain, Ed, the concrete manufacturing king of Pittsburgh, or any of his contemporaries. 
Though you did use this as an example, I would certainly not think this is a place where one would be trying to become friends with the opposite sex. A little flirting, even some dirty dancing can be great fun and should not bring with it the expectations of sex (of any kind) or friendship. It’s a moment. That’s all. And if you happen to have somewhat of a spark with one of Ed’s friends and he asks for your card at the end of the night in a respectful non-groping way, then you are welcome to hand it over. 
Recently I was in the mountains, enjoying a solo luncheon in the cozy dining room of one of my favorite hotels and in came a group of men, all dressed somewhat similarly – obviously belonging to some sort of club - and having a jolly good time. The only free table was one almost adjoining mine and so they sat very close. It was not long before they were smiling and chatting me up, in a harmless and charming way. They had many questions about the fact that I was alone, and seemed somewhat concerned even. After agreeing to their offer of a glass of wine (several, really) and indulging in a clever and witty conversation, we became what I would call acquaintances of the moment.
Things potentially changed when two of the men asked what I was doing later. Did I want to join in their evening’s entertainment? (Which included watching a live sporting event, dinner and then a party at a private club.) I seriously considered it. Was I interested? Yes. Was I hesitant? Indeed. Is life short? Yes, indeed. Do I pride myself on being spontaneous and taking advantage of moments? Yes. Indeed. Knowing that several of them were married men and them not knowing my status, I asked if other ladies would be joining. They looked at one another. Finally, after a few awkward moments, one piped up. “No. Actually. The ladies don’t arrive until tomorrow.” They all looked like little boys. One was actually blushing. They didn’t know what I’d say and neither did I. 
In the end, the decision was not a difficult one for me. I made it clear that I would very much enjoy spending the evening with a group of charming men such as themselves and that I hoped to meet their partners the next day. This changed the dynamic and I could see a few of them exhale with relief. I’ve mentioned this before, darlings. Expectation management. And though this was a very subtle variation on this theme, it was enough to make us all feel quite secure moving into our evening. Besides, when I considered my evenings plans - dining solo and writing in my room (wearing a fabulous new caftan I’d picked up), theirs seemed much more enticing. 
I had the most wonderful evening, which was greatly enhanced by the fact that not one man made a pass at me, though the dirty jokes and cheeky comments abounded. (I was deemed able to handle it. One of the guys and all.) Were there men to whom I was attracted? Of course? Who wouldn’t be attracted to a Count who has a collection of Austin Healeys and a penchant for yachts and Yeats? But the Count is taken – by the Countess – and I’d have a terrible time giving up my stable of twenty-something Italian lovers just to move to a castle in the English countryside. 
You are in charge of you. Accept offers. Dance. Mingle. Drink. Laugh. Converse. Feel free to say no. Always. Know your limitations (remember how your inhibitions go out the window when you’ve had two bottles of wine) and remember that this is a moment. These are not your friends. In fact, it’s likely you’ll not see them again. And that’s okay. Moments like these are what make life wonderful. But don’t forget that having a fond memory is far better then whatever it is you’d call it when you remember that you agreed to meet Ed’s friend Wally in the loo for what he called, “The best 30 seconds of your life!” Just say no. 
As Ever,
xx The Baroness

 

Dear Baroness, 
I have a very serious question for you:  Do you think I should stop drinking? I mean not altogether or anything but maybe for a while? Or maybe just drink less? I mean I know you don’t know me, but I just think it might be time. I was reflecting upon this past year and how shitty it’s been, and other than the obvious reasons (Donald Trump and pals, the death of Bowie, Prince, Leonard Cohen and George Michael . . .), I have to say that a lot of my most memorable times had a lot to do with alcohol. And that’s not cool, is it? And by memorable, I’m saying ending with sex. I mean, if I wouldn’t sleep with someone sober, why would I sleep with them when I’m drunk? Right? I mean that’s not always the case but sometimes it is, I must admit. And that’s not who I want to be. I actually would like a boyfriend and would like to stop just hooking up with hot guys. Where is that getting me? 
So. I guess my question is, at what point in life should one stop getting drunk on dates and dragging them home with you?
And, where the heck have you been? Are you okay? I’ve missed you.
Signed,
Drunk slut
Darling Slut,
I hate calling you that. You’re not a slut, you’re a woman who likes sex. And who sometimes likes to use alcohol to lower her inhibitions, I’d imagine. We’ve all done that, darling, so please don’t beat yourself up. 
Also, unless you’re reclaiming the word and using it to refer to yourself as a sexually liberated woman, you’re propagating the negative stereotype of the word, which is not terribly helpful. Wouldn’t it be nice if we stopped using it altogether? If we said, she’s a gal who enjoys sex, or she’s dressed in quite a sexy way, instead of calling her a slut or saying she’s dressed slutty. That seems like good sense to me. Let’s work on that, shall we?
After all, we don’t call men sluts, now do we? Now there’s something we could talk about for hours on end. But you didn’t write asking for advice about the moral double-standard and so I’ll shelve it for now.
As far as your drinking goes, of course that’s only for you to decide. Does it interfere with your judgment? Sounds like it might at times. Maybe you enjoy it. Perhaps you need it to relax? Maybe you have hang ups about sex and intimacy and drinking lessens them? Many of us could certainly relate to this one. It’s scary to be intimate with another person. Especially before you know them well. And when you’re dragging them home on the first date, how can you possibly know them?
And then, I imagine, it becomes a bit of a vicious cycle. Get drunk. Take a stranger home. Wake up (in the middle of the night or the morning), look at the stranger in your bed (or you in theirs) realize you don’t know them. (Sometimes not ever their name. Mom would be so proud!) Decide one of two things: 
1.You want to get to know them and have a good feeling about the night before, which then leaves you with having to back track and try to navigate something with someone who now might only see you as a sexual conquest rather than someone they’d like to date. Or perhaps they like you too and you both have no hang ups about first date hook ups and you can move forward from there, which is terribly grown up in its own way but carries with it its own challenges. 
2. You need to get out of there fast (preferable without waking them à la Coyote Ugly ) and go home and take a shower and erase/block their number. Of course this is problematic if you’ve brought them home to your place and need to wait until they wake up and then if they are lingerers, you’re screwed. What if they want coffee? Or expect breakfast? This particular person likely enjoyed the night and might even like you. But you don’t like them and are regretting the evening, so good luck with this scenario … Oy.
You get the picture . . . I could have gone on. That was fun. 
Let me say that it’s a powerful thing to recognize and consider one’s behavior and then even more powerful (and difficult) to change this behavior, but I know you can do it. 
It’s a new year – and while I’m a little tardy to the game – Happy New Year! Maybe this is the year to try something I like to call . . . SOBER SEX! Yes! It can be done and it can be fun! (So I’ve heard.) 
There is also something called … GETTING TO KNOW SOMEONE BEFORE GETTING NAKED WITH THEM! I’ve also heard this is advisable, even enjoyable! Someone please try it and get back to me! 
In all seriousness, my darling, if you want a boyfriend, get off Tinder (hate to make assumptions, but you’re on Tinder aren’t you?) and get out in the real world. Or use a more reputable dating service for people who are actually looking for a relationship. Those have existed long before the likes of Tinder. ( Fiddler on the Roof , anyone?)
If you want to drink. Drink. Go out with your friends, get hammered and dance on the bar. Just try to limit your imbibing when you’re on a date. Seems pretty simple and straight forward. 
And before I leave you, thank you for your concern over my absence. I was on a trip. A long, strange trip. And now I’m back, better than ever. Sadly, my tan is faded and my young lovers are now only a memory but I’m here for you, darlings. Now more than ever.
As ever,
xx The Baroness

Dear Baroness, 
I have a very serious question for you:  Do you think I should stop drinking? I mean not altogether or anything but maybe for a while? Or maybe just drink less? I mean I know you don’t know me, but I just think it might be time. I was reflecting upon this past year and how shitty it’s been, and other than the obvious reasons (Donald Trump and pals, the death of Bowie, Prince, Leonard Cohen and George Michael . . .), I have to say that a lot of my most memorable times had a lot to do with alcohol. And that’s not cool, is it? And by memorable, I’m saying ending with sex. I mean, if I wouldn’t sleep with someone sober, why would I sleep with them when I’m drunk? Right? I mean that’s not always the case but sometimes it is, I must admit. And that’s not who I want to be. I actually would like a boyfriend and would like to stop just hooking up with hot guys. Where is that getting me? 
So. I guess my question is, at what point in life should one stop getting drunk on dates and dragging them home with you?
And, where the heck have you been? Are you okay? I’ve missed you.
Signed,
Drunk slut
Darling Slut,
I hate calling you that. You’re not a slut, you’re a woman who likes sex. And who sometimes likes to use alcohol to lower her inhibitions, I’d imagine. We’ve all done that, darling, so please don’t beat yourself up. 
Also, unless you’re reclaiming the word and using it to refer to yourself as a sexually liberated woman, you’re propagating the negative stereotype of the word, which is not terribly helpful. Wouldn’t it be nice if we stopped using it altogether? If we said, she’s a gal who enjoys sex, or she’s dressed in quite a sexy way, instead of calling her a slut or saying she’s dressed slutty. That seems like good sense to me. Let’s work on that, shall we?
After all, we don’t call men sluts, now do we? Now there’s something we could talk about for hours on end. But you didn’t write asking for advice about the moral double-standard and so I’ll shelve it for now.
As far as your drinking goes, of course that’s only for you to decide. Does it interfere with your judgment? Sounds like it might at times. Maybe you enjoy it. Perhaps you need it to relax? Maybe you have hang ups about sex and intimacy and drinking lessens them? Many of us could certainly relate to this one. It’s scary to be intimate with another person. Especially before you know them well. And when you’re dragging them home on the first date, how can you possibly know them?
And then, I imagine, it becomes a bit of a vicious cycle. Get drunk. Take a stranger home. Wake up (in the middle of the night or the morning), look at the stranger in your bed (or you in theirs) realize you don’t know them. (Sometimes not ever their name. Mom would be so proud!) Decide one of two things: 
1.You want to get to know them and have a good feeling about the night before, which then leaves you with having to back track and try to navigate something with someone who now might only see you as a sexual conquest rather than someone they’d like to date. Or perhaps they like you too and you both have no hang ups about first date hook ups and you can move forward from there, which is terribly grown up in its own way but carries with it its own challenges. 
2. You need to get out of there fast (preferable without waking them à la Coyote Ugly ) and go home and take a shower and erase/block their number. Of course this is problematic if you’ve brought them home to your place and need to wait until they wake up and then if they are lingerers, you’re screwed. What if they want coffee? Or expect breakfast? This particular person likely enjoyed the night and might even like you. But you don’t like them and are regretting the evening, so good luck with this scenario … Oy.
You get the picture . . . I could have gone on. That was fun. 
Let me say that it’s a powerful thing to recognize and consider one’s behavior and then even more powerful (and difficult) to change this behavior, but I know you can do it. 
It’s a new year – and while I’m a little tardy to the game – Happy New Year! Maybe this is the year to try something I like to call . . . SOBER SEX! Yes! It can be done and it can be fun! (So I’ve heard.) 
There is also something called … GETTING TO KNOW SOMEONE BEFORE GETTING NAKED WITH THEM! I’ve also heard this is advisable, even enjoyable! Someone please try it and get back to me! 
In all seriousness, my darling, if you want a boyfriend, get off Tinder (hate to make assumptions, but you’re on Tinder aren’t you?) and get out in the real world. Or use a more reputable dating service for people who are actually looking for a relationship. Those have existed long before the likes of Tinder. ( Fiddler on the Roof , anyone?)
If you want to drink. Drink. Go out with your friends, get hammered and dance on the bar. Just try to limit your imbibing when you’re on a date. Seems pretty simple and straight forward. 
And before I leave you, thank you for your concern over my absence. I was on a trip. A long, strange trip. And now I’m back, better than ever. Sadly, my tan is faded and my young lovers are now only a memory but I’m here for you, darlings. Now more than ever.
As ever,
xx The Baroness

Dear Baroness, 
I have a very serious question for you:  Do you think I should stop drinking? I mean not altogether or anything but maybe for a while? Or maybe just drink less? I mean I know you don’t know me, but I just think it might be time. I was reflecting upon this past year and how shitty it’s been, and other than the obvious reasons (Donald Trump and pals, the death of Bowie, Prince, Leonard Cohen and George Michael . . .), I have to say that a lot of my most memorable times had a lot to do with alcohol. And that’s not cool, is it? And by memorable, I’m saying ending with sex. I mean, if I wouldn’t sleep with someone sober, why would I sleep with them when I’m drunk? Right? I mean that’s not always the case but sometimes it is, I must admit. And that’s not who I want to be. I actually would like a boyfriend and would like to stop just hooking up with hot guys. Where is that getting me? 
So. I guess my question is, at what point in life should one stop getting drunk on dates and dragging them home with you?
And, where the heck have you been? Are you okay? I’ve missed you.
Signed,
Drunk slut
Darling Slut,
I hate calling you that. You’re not a slut, you’re a woman who likes sex. And who sometimes likes to use alcohol to lower her inhibitions, I’d imagine. We’ve all done that, darling, so please don’t beat yourself up. 
Also, unless you’re reclaiming the word and using it to refer to yourself as a sexually liberated woman, you’re propagating the negative stereotype of the word, which is not terribly helpful. Wouldn’t it be nice if we stopped using it altogether? If we said, she’s a gal who enjoys sex, or she’s dressed in quite a sexy way, instead of calling her a slut or saying she’s dressed slutty. That seems like good sense to me. Let’s work on that, shall we?
After all, we don’t call men sluts, now do we? Now there’s something we could talk about for hours on end. But you didn’t write asking for advice about the moral double-standard and so I’ll shelve it for now.
As far as your drinking goes, of course that’s only for you to decide. Does it interfere with your judgment? Sounds like it might at times. Maybe you enjoy it. Perhaps you need it to relax? Maybe you have hang ups about sex and intimacy and drinking lessens them? Many of us could certainly relate to this one. It’s scary to be intimate with another person. Especially before you know them well. And when you’re dragging them home on the first date, how can you possibly know them?
And then, I imagine, it becomes a bit of a vicious cycle. Get drunk. Take a stranger home. Wake up (in the middle of the night or the morning), look at the stranger in your bed (or you in theirs) realize you don’t know them. (Sometimes not ever their name. Mom would be so proud!) Decide one of two things: 
1.You want to get to know them and have a good feeling about the night before, which then leaves you with having to back track and try to navigate something with someone who now might only see you as a sexual conquest rather than someone they’d like to date. Or perhaps they like you too and you both have no hang ups about first date hook ups and you can move forward from there, which is terribly grown up in its own way but carries with it its own challenges. 
2. You need to get out of there fast (preferable without waking them à la Coyote Ugly ) and go home and take a shower and erase/block their number. Of course this is problematic if you’ve brought them home to your place and need to wait until they wake up and then if they are lingerers, you’re screwed. What if they want coffee? Or expect breakfast? This particular person likely enjoyed the night and might even like you. But you don’t like them and are regretting the evening, so good luck with this scenario … Oy.
You get the picture . . . I could have gone on. That was fun. 
Let me say that it’s a powerful thing to recognize and consider one’s behavior and then even more powerful (and difficult) to change this behavior, but I know you can do it. 
It’s a new year – and while I’m a little tardy to the game – Happy New Year! Maybe this is the year to try something I like to call . . . SOBER SEX! Yes! It can be done and it can be fun! (So I’ve heard.) 
There is also something called … GETTING TO KNOW SOMEONE BEFORE GETTING NAKED WITH THEM! I’ve also heard this is advisable, even enjoyable! Someone please try it and get back to me! 
In all seriousness, my darling, if you want a boyfriend, get off Tinder (hate to make assumptions, but you’re on Tinder aren’t you?) and get out in the real world. Or use a more reputable dating service for people who are actually looking for a relationship. Those have existed long before the likes of Tinder. ( Fiddler on the Roof , anyone?)
If you want to drink. Drink. Go out with your friends, get hammered and dance on the bar. Just try to limit your imbibing when you’re on a date. Seems pretty simple and straight forward. 
And before I leave you, thank you for your concern over my absence. I was on a trip. A long, strange trip. And now I’m back, better than ever. Sadly, my tan is faded and my young lovers are now only a memory but I’m here for you, darlings. Now more than ever.
As ever,
xx The Baroness

Dear Baroness,
Can you please explain to me the reason men find it necessary to send dick pix? I’m not sure why, (maybe because it’s spring?) but suddenly, I’m being inundated by them and I’m not happy about it.  Most of the time, I just block any dude who sends unsolicited pix, but I really liked this one guy and he just sent one too and I’m not sure how to handle it. Any insight you can provide would be much appreciated! 
Signed, 
Sick of Seeing Dicks
 
Darling SoSD,
There are many reasons men send dick pix. Here are just a few I’ve heard:
“If I send her a pic of my junk, maybe she’ll send me a naked one back.” “I wanted her to know she gave me that erection. I thought she’d be kind of proud of it.”  “I was wasted.” “Sometimes you just need a compliment, you know?”
Wow. Yes. These are actual quotes from men I spoke to on the subject. Personally, I think there are other issues at play, many of them stemming from insecurity. If a man sends you a photo of his penis and you reject him, this is a far better scenario then an in-person rejection. Of course, the chances of a woman rejecting a man based on his penis in person are actually very small. 
By the time you get naked with someone you most likely have a level of physical attraction – at the very least - and hopefully more than that. There are so many more elements at play than merely the size of a man’s cock. It’s true.  I can tell you that I do not know of a single woman (Well, that’s an exaggeration . . .I do know one woman who has rejected men based on the size of their members, but that’s only one! And she’s a jerk. So let’s not worry about her.) So 99% of women will not make fun of your cock. At least not to your face. They are smart enough to know that some of the best sex had involves less than porn cock cocks. And that an aesthetically pleasing cock does not necessarily a good sexy-time session make. As I’ve mentioned before, sometimes huge is too huge. And with everything, some things and some people just fit better together than others. So please, I implore you -  stop obsessing about your cock!
I must admit I did receive a dick pic once that I still keep. It’s the best one ever. Not just because it’s a pretty cock or a huge one (it does happen to be quite impressive) but it’s the angle, the light the … well it’s almost artistic. And it’s sexy. All my friends have seen it and love it too. He doesn’t mind that I’ve shown it around. Duh. He’s proud, of course. He actually wrote a while ago asking that I send it to him so he could show his new girlfriend. I refused. Perhaps I’m selfish. It was taken for me, wasn’t it? 
I mean, do you send the same sexy pics to many different people? (I know you do. We all have. It’s an issue of practicality, after all.) But it’s not really right, right? It’s embarrassing when someone writes back after you’ve sent a photo, “You already sent me that one . . .” Oops. Silly me. But some of them are just so good, you want to keep sharing the love, right? I’ve busted many a man on this. 
I get that we all have photos we like of ourselves, but if you’re going to send the same pix to all interested (and not interested) parties, that just seems a little … well, I don’t know. Lazy? Maybe it’s not and maybe I’m just being too idealistic and romantic … please weigh in on the subject, darlings.
Gentlemen, this is the most important thing to remember … SENDING UNSOLICITED PIX OF YOUR JUNK - especially to a woman (or a man) you do not know, IS HARASSMENT. Straight up sexual harassment. Think about it. (And I welcome your lame-ass arguments to the contrary.) So stop doing it. 
As far as this man you like(d) who sent the dick pic . . . that’s your call. There’s always talking about it. I find this to be a good place to start. Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water if you really like him, but do get an answer before things go too far. I mean. This can signal a much bigger problem (insecurity). 
So what have we learned today? Don’t send unsolicited dick pix! Yes! Well done! Class dismissed. (And if you still need help, here’s a  handy guide ).
As Ever,
xx The Baroness

Dear Baroness,  Spring is here and you would think that would be a good thing. But I’m in a bad mood because I’ve been dumped. And I’m not the only one. It seems to be going around. And it hurts, you know? It never gets any easier. And you swear you’ll never let yourself fall in love again and then you meet someone who makes you feel like it’s okay to fall. And you trust them. And you open your heart. Only to have it ripped from your chest a mere month later. Who knows, maybe I don’t even know what love really is . . . 
I don’t know how you can help me. I know time is the only thing that can really help, but I was hoping maybe you’d have some wise words or maybe be able to make me laugh at least. 
Signed,
Sad, Sad, Sad
 
Darling Sad (x3),
I’m so sorry to hear this. I hate that you’re hurting. I do. But wow, I will say . . . . It is going around! I have no fewer than three friends who’ve been dumped in the last month. What is it? Spring is here? New beginnings? Get rid of the person who kept you warm on those cold winter nights? Whatever it is, I agree. . .  It’s lousy.
Even The Baroness is not immune to heartbreak. It’s true, my darlings. 
Why, just last week, she was planning a romantic Easter get away with someone she truly thought was a lovely man. A man who pursued her. A man with an incredible smile and a sparkle in his eyes who expressed his yearning for her. She liked him. A lot. Promises were made. Professions of adoration and intent were uttered. Hopes were up. Defenses were down. Car hired. Flat rented. Gifts purchased. Then, the day before Prince Charming was scheduled to fly into town, a message.  I’m not coming. I want to be with you but I can’t. Not right now.  And, almost as an afterthought,  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry. It’s amazing how little or how much weight these two words can carry. In this case, they didn’t carry much. The damage had been done. 
Actions speak louder than words. Those five words are always true.
Is her heart broken? No. Not broken. But certainly bruised. Can a heart be broken if you were not truly in love? I would say that though one may not have been in love, one can indeed still feel the physical pain that comes from the deep disappointment which follows the severing of a deep connection. There have been studies proving that this is an actual medical condition. It’s called  Broken Heart Syndrome . How sad is that?
Some might argue that if it hurts so much, it must have been love.  But that’s not necessarily so. But it does still hurt. You’d think that some brilliant scientist would have discovered a cure for a broken heart by now. But the only thing that heals a broken heart is time. And that takes a while. . . 
None of us are immune to this. If you have traditionally been the dump-er, just wait, you will be the dump-ee in due time. This is the price for opening yourself up to connecting with another human. And sometimes it feels like it’s not worth it. Cats seem like a better option. And just when you’re ready to hang it all up and become a Monk, you go to airport to return a rental car and a young, hot, muscle-bound, dark-haired Adonis chats you up. And you feel like maybe, just maybe, at some point in the not too distant future, you might just be ready to dip your toes in the water of love once again. And you will. We all will. Because that’s what people do.
I advise you to not throw the baby out with the bathwater. To take your time. To do things you love to do. To distract yourself as best you can, but to also feel the pain and honor it as best you can. After all, you should be commended for opening your heart to another. It’s an incredibly fearless and scary thing to do.
The Baroness will try to heed her own words here. But it’s not easy, is it? Surrounding yourself with friends and family and taking care of yourself is key. Our dear Baroness is terribly fortunate to have had meals made, drinks served, flowers delivered and massages given . . . It doesn’t fix it, but it helps. 
One more thing which could possibly help (but is also a bit controversial) is going out and getting some lovin’ from someone else. Admittedly, this is not necessarily the most grown up and healthy thing to do. But boy, oh boy, can it make you feel better. Temporarily. I would not recommend picking up some stranger at the train station, getting drunk on shots of Jägermeister and bringing them home with you, but if you have a ‘friends with benefits’-type situation or an ex you booty call, well, now might be the time. But it can also make you feel worse. You know yourself better than I do, darling. Be careful with you.
You may be feeling quite angry in addition to feeling hurt and that is to be expected. But try not to hold on to the anger. You did love this person for a reason and they made you feel good for a time. Try to remember that feeling. No one can take that away from you. 
We find far too few people in life with whom we truly to connect. Of course that’s why it hurts so much more when one person runs away even after admitting to this special connection. Falling in love can be scary. But I prefer to see it as exhilarating, invigorating and intoxicating. 
It will happen again, my darling. For The Baroness, for you, and for anyone who is brave enough to open themselves up to another deliciously imperfect soul.  
Let’s enjoy these longer days and trust that by Summer we’ll all feel a little bit better. Sending love.
As Ever,
xx The Baroness