What Do You Do With Love, Jam Bands and a House of Sticks?

Hate is not the opposite of love. The opposite of love is indifference. I read that somewhere. Hate and love are passionate emotions inextricably linked. However deeply you feel one, you will just as deeply feel the other. Pleasure/pain. Happy/sad. All of it. And you learn from that.

Like, I don't give a flying fuck about jam bands. Don't know a thing about them, their history, their culture. If it weren't for friends who LOVE them they wouldn't be on my radar at all. Sometimes it surprises me how many people I know who love jam bands (I seriously do NOT get that), just like it surprises me how many people I know who are Republicans...it more often surprises me when those genres coincide. Anyway, apparently Phish fans and Republicans are not opposites either. Although it feels on a deep, deep level like they should be.

Welcome to my deep thoughts for the evening.

Back to the love/hate thing. I went through a serious period of indifference for a while. That sucked a lot. Totally shutting down, getting jaded, not allowing myself to feel anything but skepticism. Yuck. I feel much better when I allow myself the happy. Equally worse when the sad flows in. It's worth it.

But here's the thing, my X is in the hospital tonight and I feel cut off from that. He's probably dying. I know he's dying. Bit by bit. Chunk by chunk. I can see it, feel it, I know it to be true but I've heard it so many times it has become a Pig Cries Wolf headline to me (mixing fables, I know, go with it). I can see the stupid wolf at the stupid door but it isn't my house for cryin' out loud. I feel like the across the street neighbor watching the house of sticks about to get blown down, phone in hand and I can't get through to 911.

In a real life circumstance I would run across the street with ferocious velocity and verbally humiliate the wolf until he slithered away in a wolf-shaped puddle of shame. Can't do that here. Y'know, 'cuz this is all metaphorical and whatnot? It's his wolf to boil and he has no house of bricks to go to.

This isn't going to be a happy ending. And I wonder, since I'm all about embracing the happy AND the sad and stuff...how's this gonna play out from my behind-glass, across the street perspective? Things 1 and 2 will be devastated. The outlaws will be devastated. The universe has declared I am not allowed to date until after these shenanigans have passed...so all I've got to lean on is long distance phone calls, reunion planning and witty facebook comments?

[deep breath]

How do you...I don't...what was the question?