Big trouble in little circadian rhythyms….
Okay, so that means I’m having trouble sleeping and I’m not producing a maximum melatonin amount. Or something. That should segway well into the topic of depression. Maybe I’m not depressed, maybe I’m reflecting on time. Time spent adoring, caressing, and treating her right. There was love to be made, and like all good things it ends. The last few nights have been filled with waking dreams, strange utterances, and an infinite number of words exchanged in a mental reality. My mental reality being a bit like virtual reality in that my mind will mimic and playback past events as if they were changeable and happening right then and there. The last few nights brought back every single waking memory I shared with her and every word we shared in vivid clarity. I relived those moments, prolonging them, following alternate paths, saying different things, putting my hands there, and not there. As I slept, every hair on my body stood to attention in these strange waking dreams. I was sleep walking in fast-forward pace through the entire lifespan of the love we shared. It was as if I had been shot and my life was flashing before my eyes, except I wasn’t dying. It is at this point those flutters, those strange beats that coursed through my veins at her sight end; I can rest. I haven’t met anyone new who can make me forget, no gorgeous buxom babe to distract me, no 32DDs smothering my thoughts. I was so young, and now I’m not so young. Moving on. Maybe that would have been a better title for this post.
P.S.: I am now officially a danger to your daughters. And your mothers. And your wives.
