Friday, December 14, 2007

A plea to abolish nighttime...

..because that's when all the bad stuff comes calling.

As long as the sun is out, I can maintain. I mean, I might actually see, and if lucky, talk to real, human-type people. But when night falls, it's just me and, well, me.

It wasn't always thus. When I had a love who lived across the country, I could depend on a 7:00 p.m. call. Every night. Either she'd call me, or I'd call her. We would talk about our days and say all the things to each other we said while together. I didn't feel alone at all, and I knew each day brought us closer to being together, there or here.

Later, when I had a love who lived not so far away (even in the same time zone), I...well, never mind that. Not going there.

Nowadays, all that's left are memories and a cold, empty pad. Some nights -- when I must -- I work, other times I read. I look forward to the earliest moment I can go to bed and not wake up at 4:00 a.m. to stare at the ceiling until it's really time to start a new day.

PARENTHETICAL THANKS-AGAIN-TO-THE-FRIEND-WHO-GAVE-ME-THE-KEYBOARD THOUGHT: Music helps. Boy, does it help. I have been pecking away this evening, and a few random bits of information are starting to come back. Not enough, of course, but each correctly picked-out melody, each interesting chord progression, makes me feel a bit better. The effect is cumulative.

I dislike cooking anyway, but I despise cooking for one, despise not having anyone to share kitchen duties -- which always left me washing dishes after -- and tend to simply slap "meals" together.

By and large, my neighbors are no help. They tend to use evenings to get wasted (via major excesses of doobage or alcohol) and, while I am far from immune to the latter temptation, I don't need their help to ratchet it up. Amazing, because they invariably have companionship.

I guess you're never really satisfied with what you have.

No, that's a miserable lie. I was deliriously happy with what I had during two previous spans of time. Does my lack of desire to shop around, to sample other treats, make me weird? One of my serious encounters -- two, if you count my ex-wife -- make me think so. But my heart and my personal beliefs tell me "no."

What I do know is that I have grown to dislike and fear the night, have come to do whatever I can to rush it by and hope for something better when the sun rises again.

In this mood, I dare not listen to Diana Krall, Jim.

Back to the other keyboard.

8 comments:

DAL said...

It is rare for me to pick up the guitar unless I'm already in a good mood. Plucking away when I feel blue does me no good whatsoever.

What I'm saying is it's rare for me to pick up the guitar...

It's good for you that playing helps.

MrScribbler said...

dal -- It's called sublimation bro. Can't help thinking how much nicer it would be if a sweet female hand was reaching over my shoulder to correct my technique....

DAL said...

If a sweet female hand was trying to correct my technique, it would be reaching across from in front of me, or reaching around from behind me. All the better to put her fingers where they have to go, of course...

MrScribbler said...

dal -- music and love...all there is.

joan said...

You are alone too much. I don't think I could handle a job working from home like you do. I need people bounce off of. Then I can come home to a peaceful retreat.

susananne said...

I know its not a lot of consolation but you get a hug from across the ocean..(( Hugs ))

sugarcane said...

I just want to hug you because I know and feel the lonliness you're describing.

I wish I had something uplifting and wonderful to make us both feel better, but I just don't.

coyoteslinks said...

You should think about coming for a visit. Could be a woman here for you.