Finding Memories

I keep reaching back into the recesses of my mind for those happy moments - not memories. I'm not talking about when I was proposed to, my first orgasm, Mardi Gras or the moments on E when we just sat around and talked about how much we loved each other. I'm talking about the moments that make it even more special. Like, the first time my abused Dalmatian took a biscuit right out of my hand. Or, discovering new flowers and plants in New Orleans. Those moments are now few and VERY far between.

I was chatting on line with Barry today, and I think we have almost become resigned to the fact that we may not always be depressed, but always melancholy. Just like some people are born with blonde hair, we were born sad. Which is sad.