Monday, May 26, 2008

Blue ...

Where does emotion come from, I wonder?

A combination of chemicals and thoughts all swirling around in a noxious conscious brew?

Today, I drifted in and out of a funk. For me, holiday Mondays exist outside of time. They never feel like Mondays. But nor do they feel like Sundays. They feel more like Saturdays, but with the cruel knowledge that work looms the next morning, a sort of Saturday/Sunday hybrid that way.

But the weather was nice. I spent some time chatting with my neighbors. I went for a walk. I took a little nap. I put away 100 pages of the latest book I've opted to crack.

I realized, once again, that sugar does indeed affect me dramatically. Within 20 minutes of eating it, I'm nearly comatose. Must nix sugar. Too bad it's so damn addictive.

So the day has been relatively level, emotionally. Yet tonight, I'm just going to throw in the towel and turn in early. It's weird how this feeling sets in, like fog rolling in across a harbor.

One night, years ago, many years ago, back in the days of Tom for those of you who remember him, I was lying on his couch while he got ready for bed. He walked into the living room to say, "Your turn" (he had a very small bathroom), and I just laid there. No inclination to move.

He laid on top of me, smoothed my hair away from my face, and asked, softly, "What's going on?"

I had no answer.

He made me get up, made me take out my contacts, made me come to bed. Put his arms around me, kissed my hair, and just let me be.

And I guess that's all I needed, because I was fine by the time we fell asleep.

They're just weird, moods. Many men don't seem to know what to do in the presence of emotion. I've been lucky to date a couple guys who got it: that all that's required is a hug. No words necessary.

Unfortunately, I'm between hugs right now.

So sleep will have to do, instead.


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