what better time

Do I miss her or do I miss the idea of her?

Over and over this thought spins, rotisserie style, with the misshapen lump of meat that causes the rotation to silently thump the sizzling air at the bottom of its repetitive rotation, in my head night after night.

Where did she go? What is she doing? Does she miss me like I miss her? Would I ever have the guts to ask? Is it reasonable to ask? Is it fair to ask?

I can't remember her birthday, but I remember the brand and distinct smell of her skin moisturizer. I remember wanting to slip my arm around her waist while she was cooking. Was it bok choi or choi sum? Something green.

But I remember not knowing whether I could say "I love you," like someone who really is in love. I want to say it, but do I want to say it to her? The romantic in me has never given up; I suppose that's where the "hopeless" prefix comes from as well. It all depends upon the time of day. Realist by day, hopeless romantic by night. I'd make for a terrible superhero.

Also interesting how physical yearning can screw up the senses. Hunger would be the most obvious example. I've written about food twice so far in this post but surprisingly, have not gone into Homer/Pavlov drool mode. But I'm talking about how a lack of physical contact, casual or intimate, can mess with the state of mind. I'm trying to remember the details on an old experiment about very young monkeys without mothers who had different types of inanimate objects for companions. Basically, the subjects that had a soft object with face-like identifying features with them were the ones that didn't end up neurotic. I'm jisting of course, and probably making some stuff up for the sake of argument. What's the argument? Well I'm actually getting thrown off track because, ironically, I'm getting hungry. I'll hurry. Okay, I like hugs. Will that work? Okay, no. I love hugs! Hugs are awesome. I wish people would hug all the time as an acceptable way of greeting. Sure I hug a lot of my friends all the time, but I'm talking about instead of shaking hands. Imagine that. Who doesn't feel better after a good hug? None of this shoulder-lean-in-pat-pat-done crap. Alas, there is a time and place for everything, even hugs. I guess it would end up creepy even for me if people hugged all the time. I like hugs because they're special. If normal is the baseline then special shouldn't happen all the time. But how cool would it be if special was the baseline with intermittent moments of normalcy? Good golly, I think my life is like that. Well shit, thanks to everyone for making my like special!

What the hell was I complaining about again? Oh yeah, missing her. I don't know if that will ever get resolved, but it sure makes for good brain activity. I think I like this better than sudoku.