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A mountain called monkey

I'm sitting on the couch ALONE again! Where should the emphasis be "ALONE again" or "alone AGAIN" or both "ALONE AGAIN!" Hmmm well no matter.

Regardless, I'm sitting on the couch alone, hearing the bleating of sheep and goats and occasional chicken noise from Facebook's detestably addictive FarmVille. While I'd love to blame FarmVille for my loneliness, I can't. It's my own fault. I knew 18 years ago and still knew 13 years ago when I married her, that the woman I loved wasn't a touchy feely needy type like me. I just hoped over time I'd rub off on her and we'd meet somewhere in the middle.

The first few years were pretty easy. I could fulfill my monkey urges with any number of friends that were open to physical contact. But life moves on and you lose contact in more ways than one. Kids come into play, timing is wrong, people move. It's hard to recreate those comfortable friendships and some days I wonder if they can be recreated or if they aren't just fixed and could only have happened at exactly one point in my life and never again.

I still believe in all the concepts that made those times so easy. We were a troop. Like a tribe of monkeys, always hanging out preening each other, massaging, reassuring, laughing. It got me through some hard times that I don't think I would have gotten through as well. Even the memories of those days help me.

But the friends are gone, and the monkey remains. It feels like a mountain now, sitting there in the back of my brain threatening to crush me with it's weight, spurring me on. I have to give it a rest though, let things take their course, let everything just chill and happen naturally like it did so long ago.

Live in today, be in the now, you only control yourself. :)