Suicide and Babies

There are a lot of things happening, kind of, but it doesn't feel like it...I don't know. Here's what's going on:

First of all, I'm reading A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby again. These characters are just phenomenal. The things they come up with genuinely make me cry often and laugh constantly. And the fact that I relate to them so well make me think I'm suicidal. Not suicidal in that I've ever truly wanted to die, just that I seem to have a lot in common with the people who do. Minus the killing myself part.

Here's a quote:

"A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they've all let him down."

That's often how I feel! But I am certain I'm not a man who wants to die. I don't. I want to fix things. But I've kind of curled up in a ball and hid in a cupboard somewhere. The problem I'm finding with that is--your brain/heart/conscience/soul/life doesn't just stop working when you do that. You still think, feel, ache, move, breathe and the "fucking shambles" that your life has become gets worse. Still doesn't make me want to die--makes me want to hide harder, actually. But surely only an insane person would keep hiding after finding hiding doesn't work.

The good thing about the book is that they're not really suicidal in the end anymore. There is hope.

Now, completely unrelated, here's what else is in my head: EG loves to travel. He calls himself "A Citizen of the World!" He wants to, not visit, but live in many different places around the globe. I fully support this, as long as he knows I'm coming with him. But there are two problems--and if you're reading this, EG, I hope we've talked about it by now, it's not something I wanted to discuss over the phone, know what I mean?--and they are big problems. 1. I want to start having babies by the time I'm 30. I actually want to start now, but it would be better to start when I'm 30. Now, I understand that he's a year and a half younger than me, so even if we saw totally eye to eye on this, I might still have to wait 'til I'm 31. And I can do that. So that leaves us 4 and a bit years to live in different places around the globe. Surely that's enough time to decide where you want to live, right? Aha, but herein lies the second problem--I already know where I want to live and it has nothing to do with the city itself, the laws, the flora and fauna, the crime statistics--it's where my family is. Not in the suburbs, never that, but in the city next to the suburbs where said family lives. How can I ensure that his adventures around the world will lead him to the city from whence I came???

Truly a dilemma. And we only have 18 days together over Christmas--how can one of those precious hours be spent crying and possibly finding out that he will absolutely not want to live in my city and that he feels fine waiting until he's 40 to have kids because he can just find a 25 year old who's ripe and ready?

I am continually perplexed that there are so many marriages and babies happening around me and none of them are mine.