hunger for the thing one cannot have

I had every intention of writing a decent, thoughtful post today, but life intervened. I stayed out late last night, when my SIL and I became the last people in the US to see Brokeback Mountain, and then was woken early this morning by the Bee, who came in to our room complaining of an upset stomach. Today was landisdad’s first weekend day of work, and I had planned to do some gardening with the kids. Instead, I spent the morning trying to keep the Potato from climbing on the Bee’s vomit-covered sheets, and convincing the Bee that she’d feel a lot better if she let me wash her puky hair. And they say there’s no glamor in the life of working women these days.

After a somewhat difficult morning, the Potato (who’s been on nap strike since we took away his afternoon binky) finally held out One Day Longer than his mother. Yes, I caved. I gave in on the pacifier. I’m sure that he’ll be taking one to college, at this point. I think we’re going to have to just go cold turkey, and throw all the things out, but boy howdy was I glad I had one this afternoon, because he finally. Took. A. Nap. And now we’re spending the rest of the afternoon watching Spongebob, instead of going to the open house for a summer day camp that the Bee might attend.

Oh my god, this post is so boring I’m falling asleep.

I guess the problem is that the thing that I really want to write about is my reaction to the movie, and I’m somewhat conflicted about doing that. Because my reaction was extremely shallow. It’s a great movie, don’t get me wrong. But mostly, it made me depressed, not because of the awfulness of those two men living in the closet (although that is depressing), but because I can’t imagine I will ever again have the kind of bottomless hunger for another person that those two characters displayed for each other.

Is it wrong that I feel nostalgic for torrid love affairs gone by? Perhaps.

I have a wonderful husband, and beautiful children. I wouldn’t trade my life with anyone’s.

But I remember what it’s like to hunger for the thing you cannot have, and then to briefly taste it. That’s probably never going to happen to me again, and I’m missing it a little bit today.