What Do I Do Now?

This afternoon I had a pleasant conversation with a dear friend that lasted over an hour. I am not a chatty guy, but I must be a good listener. During this talk she guilted me into going to a memorial service for a Lion friends sister. After some mind wrestling I decided I will get an atta-boy if I go. Nothing beats an atta-boy. Although one awe-shit erases ten atta-boys. That is why I felt it critical to go to this service. I am sorely in need of atta-boys.

I raced through supper, took a shower, shaved, and dressed for a memorial service, only to find a text saying the service is on August 20 not July 20, grrrr!. So here I sit all dressed up and clean wondering how to save the evening. Guys at my age don’t have black books that can lead to a memorable night. In fact, I haven’t had a black book in sixty-five years. I don’t think it would be of any use if I still had it.

During our conversation we discussed my lack of contact of late. It seems my friends are wondering why I don’t return texts and phone calls. I’ve been wondering about that myself. In the shower it came to me, it is grief. Grief is a strange emotion and it strikes at strange times in strange ways. I was thinking it was depression, but grief is a better explanation. The only way out is to deal with it, which is why I finally consented to go to the wake.

I will take the car out for a drive and watch the sunset, maybe that will compensate. I am truly suffering sexual grief which is what happens when a partner loses a longtime loving bedmate. No one ever talks about it though, they just trudge on through. I on the other hand, having diagnosed my problem, like to discuss it, except no one wants to listen.

So driving off to the sunset is my cure. It’ll give me a chance too think clearly about my next move in life.

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