I’m turning into a cranky old man. Things that used to make me happy now make me angry, or at least a little mad at life. I used to like things, a lot of things, but now they just remind me of stuff I don’t have and probably won’t get.
Porn is on that list of things that remind me I won’t ever get stuff. I have managed to outlive all my romantic relationships except Mrs. the Poet, and she’s not in the mood for physical romance. I mean really not in the mood, doesn’t want to be read poetry, doesn’t want to hug and kiss and snuggle, doesn’t want to watch scary movies and snuggle under a blanket when the bad guy does the scary things, doesn’t want to share funny cartoons, just nothing.
As stated in earlier posts, everyone else I had a relationship with is dead. One lady had a rash that turned into sepsis and died back in 2007, one lady had breast cancer and finally died in 2014, one died in a car wreck… My track record is not good. Part of that is from living for a long time, no all of that is from living a long time. Live long enough and this will catch up to you. I might be immortal but that is not the case for my friends.
Mrs. the Poet is basically crippled from back surgery that severely limits her mobility and she hasn’t walked without some kind of support since March of 2020, which as a person who spent 3 months with a walker and over 19 years with a cane (AKA driving a stick) I completely understand. Thing is I can manage to get to the mailbox by myself and regularly unload the groceries without the cane (but not without discomfort). Mrs. the Poet can’t even get out of bed without the walker. And hasn’t since April of 2020. She’s been in mild to severe discomfort almost every day since her operation, something else I understand from personal experience. Something has hurt or been uncomfortable pretty much daily since I was killed, and I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but I’m alive enough now to experience pain. We both have surgical scars that get tight and anywhere from mildly uncomfortable to please kill me now it hurts so bad. We both have nerve damage so bad that it gets hard to walk because parts of our legs are not responding to control inputs. I understand all of this, but it still makes me angry when I need to have some physical affection and she can’t or won’t respond physically. When you need physical affection it’s not like you can say I’ll be good until tomorrow, I mean sure you’ll still be alive, but you won’t be living.
Other things remind me I probably won’t finish the Sprint-T and drive it. Mostly that is getting in and out of chairs and cars… Sometimes those are either difficult or seriously uncomfortable to painful. I might get the Sprint-T drivable but it looks increasingly unlikely I’ll be the one driving it in races.
Witch on a Bicycle 