An unusually sad night with my two cats

Ceci and MM (Diana's cat...I'm cat sitting for the month) are outside watching the sun set.  I am here alone.  I am eating leftover chicken soup I made on Monday.  It's very good...it warms me.  Corn and noodles and a really nice celery/carrot/onion base.  Just the right amount of pepper and Italian seasoning.  And fresh organic whole chicken.

I have a glass of red wine.  A rare treat I guess, though when you're depressed, wine can often be the worst possible enemy.  Half a glass equals four hours on the couch the day after.  But the flavor is nice...some sort of red blend.  I often choose those on the menu, if I go out.

It's so quiet as the sun sets.  Reflective time.  Review time for my life that seems so strange and alien to what I expected for my future and who I was in my past.  I'm surprised by the loudness of my sadness at this moment.  Thanks to the therapy and the anti-depressants, often now my sadness is accompanied by a "I can accept this" counter tone.  Kind of a sus 4 chord of equally sounded harmonics.  

Not now.  It's just the silence and the sadness.  One base note playing by itself, on eternal hold.  Clear as a broken bell.

I did not expect a life without smiles and laughter.  That's hard.  I think I laughed and smiled more than anyone I know, in my time.  Now...perhaps a passing acknowledgement or a funny moment from a radio show.

The sound of my happy voice, telling my cats how deeply I love both of them (Ceci is my hero).  Otherwise, there are no companions.

Obviously, the third exit of my ex-wife performed the PTSD coup de grace that began in 2012.  Watching her once again inform me that I was her worst enemy, deserving of the treatment she gives all her other worst enemies--that hurt more than I thought was possible.  I have learned what medical depression really is, and while I suspect my condition makes Mina smile, I hold out some hope that my ultimate victory will be that she will never experience an emotion one one hundredth as powerful as the full range of experiences I've live with.

You don't get off the couch and go for a run when you're depressed.  That behavior is for wellness coaches who literally do not have a clue.

I do not think that my ex-wife ever cared about meeting or understanding any of my needs.  I do not think my ex-wife is a particularly good person.  I believe she has a strong scent of the sociopathic.  That being said, she was my playmate and companion.  I enjoyed everything we did together when we weren't fighting or when she wasn't convinced I was stealing sex from her.  

I enjoyed our sex life as much as anything we did together.  My ex doesn't communicate with me so I don't know how she feels or where she lives or if she's fucking anyone.  I know how much money she has, and what I owe her.  That's all I have left of my true companion in life.  

I'm certain she hated sex with me.  Even a sociopath would a communicate better, and pick fewer insane battles, and have more orgasms with a willing partner than my ex.  

The woman was a disaster in bed.  OMG.  You never knew if you were going to get yelled at, ignored, or punished.  The best possible outcome, ever, was "that was nice."

Jeez...I've had so many sexual partners who just plain enjoyed the whole scene...open, curious, loving, full of laughter like me, accepting of affection.

Why did I spent 28 years in bed with a despot? Idi Amin and me, canoodling.

At this moment, I sincerely hope I never have sex again in my life.  Me...I loved sex, and I loved all my partners.  Now, I'm done.  You get punished unfairly day in and day out for 28 years, as if you're doing anything other than trying to protect yourself from violence--see if you want to get an erection.  I challenge you!

Anyway, it will be a long, sad, silent night.  Here in the mountains.  With a failed past, a sad present, and fears and anxiety about functioning in human companionship ever again.  I do not even know what would be best for me, or what I want.

I know the chicken soup is good and my wine glass is empty.  And the cats are cuddling on the back of the couch.  It is so so so so quiet, inside and out.