I’m sad at you. (Is that even a thing?) It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, but it’s difficult to describe. It’s aimless and amorphous; it seeks out direction and fails to find a form. It’s a pervasive, quiet melancholy that comes with separation, a wistful hum in the background of an indeterminately determinate arrangement. It’s missing something that isn’t gone yet; it’s nostalgia before its time. It can’t be fought and it can’t be fixed, so instead, I try to frame it. Missing you affirms how much you’re wanted. Fear of losing you is proof of what you’re worth. The sometimes-sadness … [read more]