hobbies

Why can i not explain myself, this sorrow within me, to people, most of all the professionals i now have to deal with because of "the incident"?

Instead, i find myself at the counselor's office, answering his banal questions and comments, said in some sort of Midwestern drawl combined with a grandfatherly tone.

"Do you feel like hurting yourself?" No (yes).

"Do you have a hobby? Some people find after a divorce that they have new interest in a hobby." Oh my fucking god, how can a collection of Hummels ever compete with an 11 year love? That just doesn't make sense: replace the object of your affection with a hobby.

You were my hobby, my passion, my life, and no amount of vinyl or guitar lessons will replace that.