I’m happy staying at home alone but …
I miss walking over to a neighborhood bar and the bartender recognizes me because I am a regular and have been there lots of times before and they’re happy to see me and we chat a little and I get a drink because sometimes it’s fun to get a drink and talk and laugh…
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?