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My good friend Loveleen and I were having drinks one night at a nice quiet bar in Vancouver.  If you don’t remember, Loveleen is a gorgeous girl who also happens to be a lesbian.  I was consoling her because her relationship hadn’t worked out.  You see, she had waffled for some time about how far to dive into the relationship she’d been in, and while she had tried to make up her mind, the other girl had made the decision for her and had left.

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Yesterday, I met with Dean, a really great guy that had gone through a lot of changes lately.  You may recall that a while ago a relationship ended for him.

Dean was struggling with letting go.  You see, you may also recall that the relationship provided him with some great sex, along with all the other stuff that goes with it: love, joy, passion, etc.  But the relationship had also provided partnership, friendship, and at one point, held the promise for Dean that there might be the opportunity for building a family.  In fact, he’d started to have dreams of a little boy, the child that, in Dean’s mind, had almost but never happened.

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Folks, I was talking to Loveleen, a friend of mine, who is a beautiful lesbian.  I don’t mean she’s beautiful for a lesbian.  I mean that she’s beautiful, and she’s also a lesbian. To me, this is like ice cream with both cookie dough and grated dark chocolate on top. Just a wonderful dish.

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I  was talking to two newlywed clients, Tom and Julie.  Tom and Julie had a problem.  You see, Julie had recently decided that she wanted to move to Spain.  She came to Tom one day and said, “This is what I want.”

This was a bit disturbing for Tom, because, for one, he was not fond of sangria.  But in general, it was such a major change from where they were living now that he felt a bit overwhelmed about it.  Julie had told him what part of Spain she wanted to live in, the house she wanted, and even what she wanted to do there all at the same time.

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Folks, for a while I’ve been meeting regularly with a guy who I’ll call Dean.  And by meeting with him, I mean he comes to my apartment/office, gives me money, and I tell him what to do.

Dean was down in the dumps.  You see, his girlfriend had just ended their relationship, which, by all accounts, had lots of great sex in it.  I wish I could tell you more, but there’s a little thing called client confidentiality.

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