He stayed over with us again Saturday night because his girlfriend was in New Jersey spending the weekend with her family, and my son doesn't love being alone. He's quite clear on this truth about himself. He's happiest when there is a least one other person around; the world feels sweeter to him then. When he first graduated from college he elected to live at home for the first two years, then he moved in with his girlfriend. While he was living with us, he'd come in at night and call out, "Hey roomies, I'm home."
I feel a little melancholy right now, for three different and distinct reasons I won't go into. The Sunday sadness descended on me after the kids left with a suddenness I wasn't prepared for. But my love is taking me to the movies in an hour, and I'm grateful for a date night distraction. It is silly to be sad about events that feel beyond my control. I wish I knew how to tuck the inconvenient emotions away in a box. As the Tearful Dishwasher would say, it's not what happens, it's our response to what happens that brings suffering. I know he's right, but that doesn't prevent me from getting sucked under, even though I know there is no real point to this suffering.