I am one melancholy dude tonight.
There is no real reason for the bummerdness (look it up). One of the girls on AI tonight wrecked one of my favorite songs, My Immortal by Evanescence, so I just launched myself into a three video mini marathon of Evanescence.
Beautiful. Haunting. Yikes. Depressing. And dang does that woman have gorgeous eyes.
I had a girlfriend once who had eyes like that. When she looked at me with those eyes, I dove in deep and hit bottom right away.
There’s an uplifting image. Blue eyed brunette. Nothing behind those blue eyes.
Come to think of it, there was another blue eyed brunette. Short black hair with mischief in her blue eyes. So much more there. A lot of me was poured out in her bed. My character took a hit. I’ll never get that back. I wish I had never said so what.
Whenever melancholy hits, this 51 year old fool goes back in time and moons over lost girlfriends. Married 20 years and yet still not able to take back those pieces of my heart. One has what is left. Even then she keeps what I have given her on the shelf. Sure would be nice if she took it down and dusted it off tonight. It has been way, way too long.
Dang, this is a bit stupid. Guys can be stupid. We are born to be stupid, most of us, when it comes to women. The irony is that I love to think back to the time when it didn’t matter that I was stupid, when I had my fill of what I wanted despite myself.. now just getting noticed takes every ounce of smart that I can drum up. Stupid old men aren’t very attractive.
It shouldn’t matter any more, should it? It does. I want my wife to treat me like I am still stupid. Oh, she treats me like I am stupid but, well, you know what I mean. Nothing takes care of melancholy for a man than a bit of heavy breathing, plain and simple, given and not earned, just because I am still that stupid stud. Those memories I moon over? They are easy. There. So easily forgotten in a moment. So easily remembered. A lot of men want to recapture those memories. Stupid, eh?
I started this blog with a rambling thought. I really didn’t go any where with it. Frankly, I’m not melancholy any more. I just feel.
Time for a Weird Al video marathon (think I’ll start with Dare To Be Stupid).