2005-03-25 - 8:53 p.m.
Melancholy crept in like the tide, slow and subtle. It didn't start out like this.
I'm not even sure why it's like this. For the most part, today was a pretty good day. My novel exchange partner finally sent me his novel. The day was kind of cold, but sunny for the first time in a week, giving everything that crisp edge I love so much. Work was pretty good; lots of laughs and Jay, the yummy intern & I went to lunch. It was good to get out of the office, and the power outage meant I got to take longer than my usual all-to-brief 30m. Got to leave early. Went to the gym for the first time all week, and felt really good on the elliptical. Felt like I could run forever.
Of course, the doldrums had already started to set in by then. I want to say it started with Jim, but morbidly, I suspect it started with that lunch with Jay, reminding me of all the things I'll never have. And then-- of course! --it seemed like nothing but couples were out and about.
I'm tired of complaining about this.
Tired too of feeling so helpless and angry about it. And yet I can't find equilibrium with it. I don't want it , this forced choice, this ugly steamroll.
I can't fix it, and I can't make myself okay with the fact that I'm broken. And so it sits, and stays, and waits for moments of inattention to take me unwary, like any good predator.
I don't know what to do with this. Ignoring it and hoping it goes away doesn't seem to be working out so well (go fig!) and I don't feel like I even have the consolation of faith at this point. Not in any meaningful, personal way, though my belief itself has not been erased and stands intact.
I just can't be pithy or clever about this. I'm lonely. And I'm tired of lonely.