Am I just tired or giving up on love?

You are asking, what about Charles?

I don't know.

I don't know if I care. Maybe I'm psychically drained, emotionally exhausted. Perhaps I'm lost in anomie or in the jargon of psychology suffering from 'disphoria' and 'amotivational syndrome'. That latter sounds like science doesn't it?

Perhaps if there were some kind man/gal/uncategorizable person to hold my hand I'd walk away now.

Maybe my feelings for Charles will come surging back.

Maybe I'll rent an apartment, call a couple of helpful people and shake the dust off my sandals as I depart Davidson Avenue.

Sounds bad doesn't it? Perhaps it is an extended bad mood. Or the sane thing to do.

I'm not mad at Charles. Right now. I even ordered a Christmas present today. But being kind and tender is my pleasure and my duty until I give up.

Anger isn't my way. If you are angry you can't see things clearly. Being subjected to anger is often more tedious than anything else.

I'm feeling wrung out as if there isn't a drop left. That may pass or not.

There is someone who will take care of him if I go (an elderly woman, this isn't about infidelity - then you would see blinding bursts and hear deafening blasts).

Don't feel sorry for me. I'm in my pacific core that has carried me through much of my life.

Not that I won't be crying if the worst happens. I don't feel that way right now. Just trying to give the devilish future its due.

I'm a tired man who wants someone to come with me and be my love.

What a boring stereotype.