It's hot as a mofo. Just thought I'd point that out in case you hadn't noticed. In this wonderful, state-of-the-art apartment of mine it feels like 125 degrees. The AC spits out puffs of air through the vents that may or may not be cooler than the air already in here, and since my computer room is upstairs even that doesn't make it up here. "Shoo-wee!" I exclaim as I wipe the sweat from my temples.
I know it's cliched and everything, but when you're in the middle of something you often can't see it very well. You don't have the right perspective to understand where you are.
Several months ago, I went through the most traumatic experience a married man can go through. I never actually talked about it here, but I eluded to it. My wife had an affair. Men all over the world and since the beginning of time have had to go through this, and I salute every last one of them.
I will spare you the details, but let it be known that this completely rocked me. It was an earthquake in my brain. My head has been a mess ever since. Everything that was secure and nailed down and absolute became insecure and unattached and uncertain. I've been so busy putting things back together it made coping with anything else, daily stuff, extremely difficult. I questioned everything about a million times a day. And I didn't see it happen, but the mental image of the event has burned itself inside my skull. That, my friends, is not a pleasant thing to see. Or imagine.
But it's getting better. The fact that I can say this to you now proves that. And the fact that I can see where I've been, and understand why I've been how I've been. I'm getting better. This afternoon and evening something else happened that proves it: I felt happy. For no reason at all. I found myself smiling. And it wasn't fake.
