First, about my last entry - I've decided that I shouldn't write shit. So I won't.
I said today, in an email, that I rarely get angry.
That was the truth. I don't get angry very often. Oh, I wish I could get good and pissed* at times. I think it would make life easier for me. Sad is hard to do, day after day after day after fucking day. Anger would be easier to deal with, I think.
But, anger is usually beyond me. Except when it's directed at me. And I don't want to write about that. I think I've done enough of that over the years.
What I want to write about is being irritated.
I've got that down pretty well, I think.
The thing that I'm irritated about right now - or I guess it was last night but I'm thinking about it right now - is that simple expressions of simple affection are denied me. Not, I don't think, because there's nothing to express. Nope, I'm pretty sure that there's some affection there. Boring platonic affection, but still pretty fucking awesome, considering the source.
But that same source won't give me a hug. Not unless I force the issue. And it always feel like force. Like I'm doing something wrong. Taking unwanted advantage of simple boring platonic affection. Copping a feel or getting some perverted thrill or something.
I'm not doing any of those things, but I know why the concern is there. The concern is there because of these more-than-friends feelings that I have. The concern is there because of that sobbing wretch down in the dungeon of my mind.
Well, the thing is, that guy can barely breathe, let alone participate in a hug.
Anyway, that's what's irritated me lately. And now, by writing this entry, I'm only going to make things worse.
* - American meaning, not British meaning.