Solitude

A week before my birthday, and I'm miserable. Except for Mom's passing, I shouldn't be. Business is good. I'm making good money. My wife's attracted to me at present, which fades in and out (at times, admittedly, I giver her "just cause" to be repulsed). I find the kids are behaving -- for me, at least -- better than normal. Holli (my best -- and only -- salesperson and biggest fan) is back to work, after almost a month out, so my crew is full again.

What more could a man ask for, right?

It's strange. I feel utterly alone. Every good thing that I have listed comes with a price: Business being good takes me away from my family, and it keeps me away for long hours. My kids loose out their nightly story and I loose that bonding time that is so precious to me. (Not to mention, my wife looses her much-needed break from the human-zoo.) Long hours mean I'm tired or exhausted by the time I tread through the door, and (by the time I put the kids down) I can't match my wife's enthusiasm. Holli is distracted by personal drama, and letting that tint her work-world.

Ironically, I can usually find a bright side to things. But, right now, I only see shadows. I can't seem to taste any flavors, everything goes plain so fast. The work I'm willing to volunteer (the time consuming work of an experienced craftsman) is unwanted. My prose is dull; it's just as well that no one really reads this. All arguments seem petty and trivial.

It's not that I want attention. Attention (so long as you're not picky about whether it's good or bad) is easy to achieve. I don't want somebody to dote on me -- I have a few fans. But, I long for the simplest of companions. What I really want is someone to hang-out with. Someone who I share interests in common with. These days, that's a rare commodity. I hardly see either of my two best friends, anymore: Dan has M.S. and doesn't come out much; Eugene lives 1300 miles away.

Well, back to the grind...before I gnaw my own ear off.