Dazed, Confused, So On

I am deeply dazed and confused. It seems my job is nearly incomprehensible to me, even though it has become easier and simpler in recent months. It seems my wife is almost complete in her conviction that our marriage has run its course. It seems I am unable to develop any sort of cogent counter-position. It seems I lost ten pounds at the Burn and subsequent illness and am only getting soft and weak as I gain them back. It seems I've had the same headache since I was in a semi-dehydrated state in Nevada two weeks ago. It seems any ability I may once have had to focus on anything that needs doing has left the station for good. It seems my kids know I am on the verge of an explosion yet behave towards me as if everything is completely normal. It seems long-understood concepts of normal living are now grown foreign, and having a job and a place to live or not having a job and a place to live look to me the same. I don't want to alarm anyone, but this isn't the sort of thing you put on Facebook (which I slowly but steadily grow less interested in) or keep to yourself or hide away in a journal if in fact you are trying to quit journaling, so, yeah.

Here's an unrelated or only partially related note that has been on my mind and might as well get noted down here: If you know me personally, I would appreciate it if you never mention that you read this here blog. As a sporadic public diary, it does not exist to provide fuel for polite conversation. It exists in a world of its own, and any and all feedback must occur within that world, i.e. within comments. Whenever someone I know says, "I read your blog ..." I feel an immediate desire to find it and set fire to it and crush the ashes until there is no more evidence that it ever existed. Of course, it being on a Blogger server, that's impossible, and deleting it strikes me as a misguided over-reaction, so typically I forget about it until the next annoying mention. And the next, and so on, so nix on that, here's a note instead. Don't mention it.

You wonder why it's over. I wonder why it wouldn't be, even though I love my wife and want her happy. Loving someone and wanting them happy is a far cry from sincerely desiring their company in every circumstance, and since I don't know what long-term marriages are built on, I don't know what else there is to focus on. Not real charmed at the idea of being an old couple that comfortably ages forward because they've made a good life and can now cruise with it awhile. Lack of passion is lack of life. I've never known an old couple that was happy, barring Art and ML of recent mention, and frankly I wondered about them too, countless times over the past few decades of observation. Besides, I've dropped broad hints in the company of numerous females that things are not what they seem and though I never meant to start anything (nor did I) I'm pretty tired of such half-ass vicarious attempts at adding interest to life. As I've said to Herself, it makes more sense to me than anything to take this midpoint in life, rake it all into a pile, and set it on fire. People who've had this done to them, people who've done it, and people who's lives took a sharp turn simply because they were unable to prevent it all look to me about as happy as the long married couples -- which isn't to say much. Indeed, after we've hit fifty or so and our offspring are in theory able to support themselves, evolution provides no more useful capability or purpose, and frankly I don't think it matters any more what we do. The dice are in hand.