Melancholy

It’s where I’m at. I’m not feeling crazy, just a little down. I know the root of it, but that doesn’t make it any easier to shake off. For starters, it’s hormonal. Then on my run this morning I ended up passing the house of my middle school (and beyond) (on-but-mostly-off-again) boyfriend. Yeah. We held hands in the hallway and that sort of stuff. There is so much more to that story, but I’m not comfortable sharing it at this point. Maybe I can sum it up by saying that sometimes you can only watch a person travel down a path and hope they make it out on the other side of the woods. I think he will, someday.

Anyway. In all the years since I’ve been to that house I’d forgotten that about 3 blocks farther down the street is a cemetery. I’ve never run through it before. I ended up coming in through the entrance next to the military section. Despite some of these markers predating World War I, they are so uniform that they instantly reminded me of pictures from Normandy; or Arlington where my father spent his Vietnam service. I know that they represent at least 100 years, but it’s heartbreaking to look at them all. So I cried a little. I decided to try the civilian side across the street. It was emotionally harder. My grandmother passed away in 2009 and I miss her. A lot.

Side note: I probably won’t run through the cemetery again. Not because of being blinded by tears (and the sun) although that is part of it, but because I spit when I run. I am not comfortable spitting in a cemetery. I know it’s silly, but I just can’t do it. It was the closest I’ve come to drooling on myself since my wisdom teeth were removed. Classy.

All together (that’s hormones, ex-boyfriend’s house from 1000 years ago, cemetery/missing my Duckie) it put me in a melancholy place. You know what doesn’t help that? My favorite album for years was Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. Both discs are long-lost to time (okay, one was to a thief but that is a story in its own right), but I have a back up plan (always). Pandora. Pandora has been playing songs I had no idea I wanted to hear. They are all out of that angsty post grunge era, you know, the real emo music. Not the sad clown isht that passes for music these days. A) With that comment, I am officially old. B) I say that like I have any idea what plays on mainstream radio these days. I haven’t listened since the fiasco (aka great running song) Yeah! by Usher, Ludacris, and Lil Jon. Can you say out of touch?

At first, the music was starting to take me to a darker place. Now? I’m rockin out with a big ol’ grin on my face and making a list of things that need to go on my iTunes (everything I’ve heard in the last 6 hours).

Just as soon as I can remember what my password is.

Bueller?

Bueller?

Bueller?

Run: 4 miles, didn’t bother with the time. Will get back to logging workouts now.

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2 thoughts on “Melancholy

  1. I had to comment on this (as a new reader) because I run almost all of my weekday runs in a cemetery. I like it because the path is varied, and because of the history- but also because of the peace, lack of traffic and there are very few others there when I am. For what it is worth- our cemetery has trash cans all over it- so spitting in those would be an option if yours has them 🙂 Just not as convenient as a “wherever you are” kind of thing.

  2. Melancholy days are tough but they are part of life. It’s a weird line between experiencing or even embracing them, and not going so far over the edge that you wake up two weeks later in a stupor on the coach with tissues strewn around you and every sad movie you’ve ever loved stacked on your DVD player.

    Glad the music helped you move to a more happy place!

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