The past week I've been talking to a friend of mine. She is also in recovery like me. She'd been having problems with her husband and decided she wanted to leave him. She asked me if she could move in with me until she found her own place to live. Well, last night she came over with some of her things to store at my place. Then she would be back tonight to stay. She also has a dog of her own, a puppy. I watched the puppy while she unloaded her vehicle. I was too tired  to help, so I 'babysat'. I was becoming attached to the puppy. I even made her a copy of my apt. key. I was excited about the move, and also a little stressed. I thought of all the things we could do as friends and roommates, etc. I could give her a place to stay until she did what she had to do and it would give me someone to talk to.  She called me after I got home from work and said she had spent the day with her sister and she decided she would stay with her husband. She told me she would come by some other day and pick up her things.  I told her I was happy for her if that's what she wanted. I got off the phone, took a shower, sat on the couch with my dog. Then it hit me. I started crying. I thought I would be able to do some good and help someone else through a difficult time in their life. When I actually wasn't able to do a thing. It worked out for her. She has her husband. I feel like I've lost a friend. I have Rocky, but it's not the same as having someone to love you. Someone that you can talk to , hug, and kiss. To laugh and cry with.  Single life gets a bit lonely at times.