And So It Begins….
There is no cure for the common male, is there?
Somehow I have landed one so screwed up, it’s not even funny anymore.
He’s "in a funk" and depressed. He sits and he mopes or sits and stares. I can’t do enough to cheer him up. He does get this sad sort of smile on his face and pulls me into a hug, or pets my head, and tells me "even in a funk, I can still love on you," but it still sounds forced. He’s trying too hard to tell me that I’m not at fault for his ‘funk’ and trying a tad too hard to tell me he’s sorry if I feel left out or lonely.
Of course I feel lonely! He’s off learning to be a pilot after work 3 nights a week! Those 3 nights he doesn’t get home until AFTER I have burried my face so far under the covers, I pass out from lack of oxygen! That’s HOURS of boredom (from lack of friends in the area) that I endure so that when he IS home, we can make the best of it. But now? There isn’t even that! He’s in his ‘funk’ right now.
He tries not to show it, but he can’t stand to be touched; he’s tenser when I try to rub his shoulders than he was beforehand, when I sat on the couch.
I can understand a lot, but a depression like this? Dude, please, for my sake, see someone! I can’t stand it for much longer, and if only you knew I was looking for my own apartment, too? What would you do? Would that ‘funk’ get worse? Or would you suddenly become less secretive, less paranoid, less mental, and rebound back to yourself?
