Romantic despair

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Been a time since I've mentioned Charles. A couple of reasons:

He's been switching medications frequently and I know he's sometimes not happy with me discussing this. Particularly if his anxiety is high. Can't remember if I wrote about him being put on Lithium. Like everyone he told about it I was startled. Lithium did much to lessen his depression. Possibly the best drug he'd tried. But he's allergic to it and it made him break out in a rash. (Because it is an element Lithium's possible reactions are very high.)

Charles is trying something else. I've forgotten the drug's name. It is a tricyclic antidepressant. They were once more popular in medical psychiatry. One of the finest men I know has been on one for over twenty years. Says it keeps him out of the asylum. No one who ever met him would suspect he needed a biochemical adjunct.

Charles hasn't been living at home for about ten days. He's staying with a medically trained friend who can monitor his response to the drugs. She was invaluable in helping him cope with the allergic reaction to Lithium.

His absence has been good for me. I've needed the silence and quiet. Our relationship had left me psychically exhausted. I'm one of those people who thrive in solitude. Up to a point anyway. I'm ready for him to be back at home.

I think. I hope.

In a fit of despair, disenchantment, something within those ranges of feelings I switched an old Yahoo profile, ilikenellyguysdurham , from Married to Single (or left it blank and made a note with in the profile - can't remember).

I've found myself often in a state of mind where if somebody really did have a "Secret Live Journal Crush" on me and they lived in Durham I'd be asking them to make it less secret.

Am I talking about being unfaithful? Monogamous me? Sort of. Not that I'm necessarily talking about sex. More clearly I'm not just horny for some other person. But I've found needing more than just a friendly handshake. Call it a tender touch that has been too long absent from my life with Charles.

Anybody would find this hurtful, dehumanizing, draining. Given that my options include men (even butch ones, will I ever get to that entry), women and the less distinctly gendered it seems like god's nasty riposte for my laughter at his followers.

Back to the implications of those feelings. Even pretending that sex qua sex wasn't the explicitly felt need there's tremendous adulterous implication in feeling the desire for a certain species of affection from another person when you are a husband (or something).

[Listening to: Ann Margret - Thirteen Men - Ann - (2:40)]

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Romantic despair
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