Just wanted to say that therapy is working out very fruitful for me. Having someone to share thoughts with, someone outside of the rest of my life, has been valuable for accessing repressed feelings and thoughts, not just in the sessions, in my free time too. I've been writing a diary since starting. It contains things I have hardly said in my head, never mind to someone else.

After the last bout of writing comparing my most recent emotional crisis with a similar one in the past, I had a dream about someone I'm still in touch with and have had a softspot for for decades. I realise I unfairly compared the most recent woman I was touched by (let's call her Eve) with her (let's call her Sarah).

I was looking for Sarah, and whilst Eve has a lot of Sarah's qualities (good and bad) they are distinctly different. It's hard (read, impossible) to fill a ghost's shoes. And whilst I was trying to get Eve to fill Sarah's shoes, Eve was trying to get me to fit "Dave"'s shoes (her previously big love.)

Dave is dead. In a way, I feel that might make grieving easier (if it weren't for complications) but I know that isn't true. We need to grieve the lost relationship. Death is not a solution.

So, I guess, my dream, this morning, was part of the grieving process for that previous relationship. The urge to comfort eat / drink / smoke is abating. My tummy rumbled extensively when I woke up (a sign of relaxation).

And a good thing is I haven't discussed this stuff to anyone it could affect, such as Eve, Sarah or any of our shared friends (okay, Eve and I did discuss our exex's at the time we were involved, but right now, I haven't disturbed anyone else's peace with this stuff).

Now I have always been considered good father material (and I am) by women in my life. I am kind, playful, patient, and paternal. This adds a present-day twist ... Sarah has a child and is engaged to a mutual friend (let's call him Norman).

In our last conversation (by Facebook messages), we were discussing, ostensibly, me standing up to another mutual friend who had a habit of taking the piss out of me in particular, but she mentioned her son in reply to my "how's life" pleasantry. She didn't mention Norman, with whom I have fought over her a few times over the decades...

So, my gut feeling is she is testing out the water for an "Uncle Betterdeal" situation. Now that doesn't mean Norman out, Betterdeal in, necessarily. It means exactly that - Uncle Betterdeal.

I didn't mention her son at all in my reply. In my hyper-vigilant state, I didn't want to commit to anything by way of impression. So, anyway, I have nephews and nieces, and sisters and a brother, and whilst I am good with kids, I don't wish to be part of someone else's extended family, especially if I have history and unfinished business to resolve.

I want my own children. I am open to the idea of fathering someone else's child, providing I have my own children too. Given that Sarah is 38, a split would take a year, add a year for getting together, the chances of she and I having a child together are too slim for my liking, never mind that I want at 2-3 children of my own.

It's a shame; we were best friends for six years and whilst we both had lovers on and off during that time, we were thick as thieves. A lot of what is me, comes from then. I learnt a lot from her. I guess likewise is true for her too.

Would I sleep with her? Maybe. I know Norman plays away from home from time to time, so I have no guilt towards him. But it would be just sex. With a beautiful woman. But I suspect that's not on offer. NSA, for old times-sake, etc.

She has her downsides too (as do I) and the baby thing is the show-stopper for me. A lot of women don't understand men wanting their own children. The only comparison I can think of is if they were to have a child, then for it to be swapped with the child of their partner's mistress who happened to be on the same ward at the same time as them.

So my path is decided. I am working through the grief of that unfinished business, making me available for a new relationship at some point with someone.

I'm not in a huge hurry, but time is passing, so I am pulling my socks up. And therapy is a catalyst for me.