The Darkness

Oddly enough, I don't remember when she went to Korea. All I recall for sure is that it was fall of 1995. It was near the beginning of the fall school term, that is, so it might have been August or September.

I wonder if the anniversary of her departure has something to do with the melancholy I've felt this time of year for the past several years.

I call it "melancholy" because it somehow does not seem severe enough to be depression. I've experienced severe depression - and this isn't quite that bad.

I'm aware that I can be melodramatic when I'm in the throes of this melancholy. Just last week, I was thinking to myself that my problem was that I couldn't make up my mind whether I wanted to live or not. See? Melodramatic.

So, calling this case of the blues "depression" seems as melodramatic as that ideation.

It's not quite "darkness". It may not even be like what Dr. Omed calls "crow time". I call it "the darkness" out of convenience, and because few people know what melancholy means anymore.

It's only dark in the sense that it takes a force of will to be aware of the light. Most of the day I can either distract myself from the darkness, or remind myself it will get better. At worst, I keep going out of simple curiosity of what might happen next.

The melancholy seems to be rooted in the awareness that I don't currently have a romantic partner, and a wish that the situation could be different. That's why I wonder whether this case of fall blues might be related to her departure during the fall.

I recognize the feeling. I give it a name, to help myself feel some control. I acknowledge the feeling is legitimate. I remind myself that feelings come and go. Feelings do not always require immediate action.

Feelings come and go. Not every moment is dark. Even this week, there have been moments of fun and laughter. I just keep walking.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring.