including and especially vampire hunting

I’m really tired but reluctant to sleep because I might miss something. Because this sadness that’s kind of hovering around me is going to swoop in and take everything over the moment I close my eyes and there’s nothing to distract me.

Because my crombomb is curled up in a ball on the electric blanket and sighing and there’s nothing cuter in the world. Because I feel guilty about feeling sad even though so many things in my life are so good right now. I am lucky and I love and am loved in return and things are going—so much better than I ever thought they would.

So the guilt creeps in because I should be happy-bouncing-totally secure-absolutely thrilled to be alive and living in a world that seems also generally glad that I’m alive and doing some living.

But I’m still sad and I hate it.

These are almost-two-in-the-morning thoughts and I know that it’s not true. It’s a let down after a week of traveling and intense conversations and being on all the time with no recharge and drinking and emotion and unsettled migratory patterns and feeling oddly far away and disconnected. It’s a tiny fear that every good thing I’ve experienced is going to go away. That people will suddenly realize I have no idea what I’m talking about. That my job will get really tired of me and my suddenly weird schedule and toss me aside. That friends will realize that I’m actually the opposite of whatever they think of me and go away.

You know how it goes. Sometimes, you let yourself feel a little vulnerable and a little sad and a little alone, and it’s okay and it’s good to acknowledge. And then sometimes you crack that door open the tiniest bit and the flood comes flooding and every idea you’ve had has been a mistake and you want to Ctrl-Z every text you’ve sent and every Facebook message you’ve ever posted and everything you’ve ever said or thought or felt.

It turns out Ctrl-Z is not an effective method for life re-evaluation (which I should have remembered seeing as how that sometimes-undoable key combo has fucked me over in manuscripts more than once).

It turns out that maybe you can pour yourself another glass of wine and bury your face in the back of the dog’s neck and allow yourself, just for a split second, just this once, to wish hard that there was someone in bed with you. And then you can breathe back out and let it go for a little while. Because there are other things to think about at almost-two-in-the-morning and not all of them are sad.

Sometimes reminding yourself that you have a lot to be grateful for can actually engender a spark of something makes you warm up, stop feeling a little sorry for yourself. Maybe feel a little tired and a little ready for bed, despite the fact that when you wake up your to-do list will still be there and everything you’re worried about or scared of or hoping for will still be wrapped around you. But it’ll be easier in the morning, because so many things are (including and especially vampire hunting). And you won’t take down a blog entry you wrote when you were sad because you can allow yourself to be sad sometimes too, even when it’s for no good reason, even when you can’t pin down the why.