Funk

I've been in kind of a funk the last five or six days. I attributed it to the fact that the 30th marked the third anniversary of ExOfNote's suicide attempt and the end of our relationship. I was pretty confident in my self-assessment. I've also really needed a hug—a good hug—for about that long and Bill hasn't been available for the job.

Last night I was feeling particularly down, so I called Bill up and asked him if I could come sit on his couch for a bit. He said sure, and over I went.

As we sat there talking many topics were covered: how I should probably answer some questions about my life before I really start looking for someone, how I should just get over the ExOfNote thing, the girl he's seeing—so many things. At one point I noted that it has been a really rough week and he said, "I'm sorry I haven't really been paying attention to you for the last couple of weeks. I've been working on dating this girl."

"Meh," I dismissed, "we've talked about this—our relationship will change, has to change, when one of us starts dating someone."

And then, in that moment, the reason for my funk became clear—it isn't the dreadful anniversary, it's the subconscious knowledge that Bill's and my relationship as we've known it is ending. It could almost be likened to a break-up. A very odd and different break-up for a very odd and different relationship. Unfortunately, how do you do 'break-up' when you never did 'together'?