Because you can give yourself a neck rub, but it's not the same...

It's hard not to feel lonely this time of year. I'm not even talking about the holidays... that is a whole other bowl of depression. I'm talking about autumn. The air gets brisk and the days get shorter. The entire season is devoted to cozy things like apple cider, sweaters and fireplaces. Everything about autumn is conducive to snuggling under a blanket with someone and watching movies. So it stands to reason that no matter how good you're feeling about your life, or how happy and fulfilled you typically fancy yourself, this time of year can throw you for a loop. It sneaks up on you too... Recently, I've found myself wanting to punch couples in their respective, happy faces. Normally, I am fairly indifferent to couples. I figure if they want to be in a relationship, good for them! Their lives are probably a little dull and they likely spend more time watching reality TV together than having sex, but they're happy. Of course, all jadedness aside, they also have someone to spoon with after a rough day. I believe it was that revelation that prompted my near-assault on some people canoodleing in front of me the other day. I also realized during a moment of reflection, that close to 80% of the relationships I've been in, began between September and November. Coincidence? I don't think so. Now, I am a self-proclaimed nostalgia-junkie. Once I start rolling down memory lane, it's difficult to stop and I often end up in a sad little funk. I was driving home from work tonight with the heater blasting, since my driver's side window is stuck in the down position. It's one of the first nights this season that we've had rain and a few snow flurries. I've been so looking forward to either, I didn't even care that my left ass-cheek was wet from said weather soaking my car seat. The smell of the moisture in the air and the way the clouds and mist hung in the sky as I was driving, sent my mind away. I was transported back to autumn of 2004 when my ex and I got together. He had this small, cozy apartment just down the street from my own, with a heater in the living room that looked like a wood-burning stove. That heater made his apartment soooo warm and comforting. I remember going over there and watching movies and talking for hours on end in that toasty little womb of an apartment that smelled intoxicatingly like coffee and incense. It was my happy place and it would have been next to impossible not to fall in love with him in those surroundings. When I recall memories like that, it's hard not to become enveloped by a sense of loss and loneliness. Thankfully I am able to recognize it as the perfect, yet fleeting, moment in time it was. I smile fondly and dreamily, (perhaps cry a little) and move on, knowing there will surely be even more perfect moments like it down the road.