The Outbreak

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Free moment at the computer, this is so rare these days, it is cold and kind of close in here all the time.

Amy and I had sex for the first time in months this weekend. (It's a crowded house, but we managed. We had some experience in this regard, after all--we dated while I was in high school.)

It was nice, very nice. I wish it were the kind of Stephen King deal where the horrific end-of-the-world tragedy makes people all kinds of horny, but this has not been the case for us. Well, it has been for me, maybe. But everybody brought the same problems they had before the revenants into this whole situation with them, and they didn't go away. The things that are wrong with you are always wrong with you until they get fixed regardless of the external circumstances. I thought when we got married that that was the sign she needed to trust me again. I really thought that would change everything. What can I say? I'm not the world's most insightful person. the anniversaries of people's deaths come and go and I'm lucky if I remember it at all. I miss the intimacy. I feel robbed of it.

Do you ever get to wondering, especially now, if you are "worth" having survived? Not really "worth it," or "deserving of it," but like, why? It's amazing how arbitrary things are. It occurred to me that I could just as easily be gay as straight, I bet. So much of love is just a buddy-buddy relationship. Would that be hard to replicate with a man? The sexual aspect, yes, but the rest of it? I don't know. I don't think so. What's been happening has shown everyone (read: me) how really random what you consider the integral aspects of your life actually are. You envision yourself as a grown-up and part of your own family and the next thing you know you are in high school again, a high schooler. No one has any goals anymore, no one has any long-term plans, because no one really knows what's going to happen. Everything gets scarcer and more expensive because fewer and fewer people are doing anything. Is that true where you are? Without goals, without an endpoint as a constant, everything just becomes a big gray washout, too fluid to care about. I don't care and nobody cares. Everyone's life is just a sort of diseased parody of life. A dry spell that's lasted for five years, who gives a shit? It could last for five, ten, twenty more years if anyone lives that long--what difference does it make? It makes a big difference to ME--I guess that's hope?

3 Comments:

Blogger Steven R said...

Random luck: My example happened the night things started getting crazy- before any of us even knew that anything was happening. Leaving my late shift job at the brake plant, I decided, for no concrete reason, to take the back roads home instead of the quicker highway route that I usually take. The highway became a death trap that night.

Conversely, my wife had that night off from her job as a RN at the Ingham Memorial hospital. She was called in earlier that evening when the ER began filling up and several of the staff didn't report for work. If she had missed that phone call, or decided to stay home with the children instead of going in to help, she would still be with us.

Call it serendipity or call it dumb luck. I'll let you younger folks make that call. I have two teenage children to care for, and a cold winter on its way. That, and the pain, are all I can focus on.

As for hope: The weather has been great, temperatures in the high 60's the last couple of days. Yesterday, my daughter and I took Toby, our old golden retriever, out for a hike through the trails at the nature center. We didn't see a single rev.

Take care!

Friday, November 04, 2005 12:18:00 PM  
Anonymous movie scary said...

Great post, keep up the good work!

Thursday, July 02, 2009 2:02:00 AM  
Anonymous table rentals said...

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Tuesday, October 19, 2010 11:29:00 AM  

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