I've been sad lately. We lucked out in Northern California this week, with warm, sunny weather on the heals of the time change. My stepson and daughter ran around in our culdesac after dinner during the week with the neighbor kids, like playing outside had just been invented. I rode my bike 6 out of the 9 days. The redbud trees are in bloom, and they are amazing. But I still feel blah.
Part of it is probably because the second anniversary of T's death is coming up next month. The warm breeze and blooming garden reminds of me one of the last things T said to me: "Our yard looks pretty good, doesn't it?" Part of it may be that things with Guy are tapering off. He's really a very sweet man, and I like him a great deal, but there doesn't seem to be much more developing. And with the anniversary blahs compounding the situation, I think I need to end it. Ah, but I do like him. So, I am conflicted.
I had an old friend over for dinner tonight -- someone I met in 1985 at my first job. We drifted apart about 10 years ago, reconnecting last year when I tracked him down after T died. I just felt the need to spend time with someone who knew me before T came into my life; someone who reminded me of who I was before, and could be again. He is good with kids, and brings his Weimaraner, and B was over the moon with excitement to have a real live dog sniffing around in the house and running around in the back yard. He brought pizza, and it was a much-appreciated, low-key evening. But now I'm facing a week of work, a week of getting up and being responsible and putting one foot in front of the other, and I am not feeling excited about it. I think I'll go lie down on the couch and rest up for it. Blah.