Michael fucking Bolton?

I’ve considered my language, on this blog and in general. But, after 10 seconds, I go back to my old swearing ways. I think that a lot of times going to the trouble to substitute not-bad words, like “darn” or aw shucks” sounds phony because everyone knows the words you really mean.

Not that you asked!

So today’s schedule: see counsellor after work, cry; go home and do two hours of chores… load dishwasher, catch up daytimer, cover coffeemaker with giant “no!” so I don’t make a cappuccino in the morning because I have to fast for all this lab work… then watch the end of a truly cheesy movie, “Fathers and Daughters”, and cry during the Michael Bolton song when the end credits rolled.

What can I say?  It had Aaron Paul and Amanda Seyfried as a couple and although it was really super cheesy I was jealous as hell.

Sample dialogue: he is cuddling her in an old fashioned clawfoot tub. He says “You know, not everyone who loves you is going to leave you.” “I know that… here…” she croaks in a broken voice, touching her temple, “but not… here.” (touches her chest just in case the subtlety of head vs. heart was lost on you.)

I don’t want it to sound like “I need a maaaan to be complete” but I really think if I knew I wouldn’t be loved in the future, that no one would love me, no one would ever ask how my day was and wait to hear the answer, well, I would find it very hard to keep on keeping on.  There’s a horrible loneliness with depression that really, only being hugged while you sob can touch.

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