My arms were wrapped around her waist, in the cold night, on the darkened street, my lips still warm with her kiss, feeling a mixture of happiness, concern, fear, recognition and gratitude as the next-to-last woman with whom I’ve exchanged vows of love sadly smiled and told me of how happy she’d become after seeking out therapy and being put on prescription anti-depressants.

…I think I could go all Marcel Proust and spend the remaining years of my life trying to capture and describe all the events, feelings, memories, and sensations that led up to, and have descended from, the moment described in the preceding sentence.

I don’t know why, but that moment, just a few short years past, is stuck in my head tonight. I’m not even sure what connection it has with my present mental state. Although, being human, I’m sure if I think about it long enough I can find one (or create one out of whole cloth).

Instead of writing it all out, though… I’m going to stop with the single, albeit complicated, sentence, and hope that the feeling leaves me now that I’ve written it out.