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the stars in the universe

“Just because you’re an atheist, that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t love for things to have reasons for why they are.” p. 13 Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

I was going to write a post today about reflections on my first semester teaching at MTC, but I guess that will have to wait because other things are weighing on my mind.

I'm sitting alone in my apartment on this blustery, wintry day (I love this weather), and am letting my old demons visit me. I was hoping to put up my Christmas tree today, but the current guardian of my surplus goods was out of town for the weekend, so I have to wait until tomorrow. The roommate is also out of town, and the apartment is warm and quiet.

It's cozy, comfortable, and sadly empty. This always happens to me. These days of freedom and silence always start out well. I feel happy and comfortable, contented in the world I've built for myself. However, the longer I am alone, the heavier the silence becomes until it no longer feels like a warm blanket, but like a weight on my chest.

This used to be a feeling I dreaded, but now I know it's coming before it arrives. I know in the morning when I wake up serene and languorous that it won't last, that a point will come when the happiness will give way to a melancholy that has become just as comfortable. It's comfortable because I imagine that it too will pass, and if it doesn't, there's nothing to be done about it right now. Being alone today doesn't guarantee being alone tomorrow. Being with someone also doesn't guarantee not being alone.

I imagine these emotions are somehow necessary. Being light and happy all the time seems like it might not yield the greatest personal growth, a concept in which I have a consistent, if vague, interest. I think that feeling this way, fully and without reserve or suppression, will help me recognize something different when I find it.

What I want is a day just like today but with another person at the other end of the sofa, a book in hand. The morning of slow ease, followed by an afternoon of minimal melancholy with someone who feels like family.

But not today. Today I have my melancholy and a good book to keep me company. Hello old friend.


Comments

Briana said…
I'm not alone on my couch, but I question frequently if I made the right choices (not in terms of who shares my couch, but in terms of who isn't there as often as I'd like). No rest, no solace, no comfort truly ever for those who really think. For to really think is to always question and therein lies the melancholy. cliche, melodramatic, but that's what I have....you handle it better than 99% so my hat's off to you regardless.
December 14, 2009 at 11:01 PM
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