Emotions in Motion

(Emotion: A moving of the mind or soul; excitement of the feelings, whether pleasing or painful; disturbance or agitation of mind caused by a specific exciting cause and manifested by some sensible effect on the body. A mental state that arises spontaneously rather than through conscious effort and is often accompanied by physiological changes; a feeling: the emotions of joy, sorrow, fear, reverence, hate, and love.)

Sometimes I wonder why we are plagued with emotions and feelings. I know that they are part of the human element, just like a heartbeat or digestion. They are strange, overtaking the body at times, ruling the heart and mind without prejudice. On occasion, I just want to be like a robot from the sci-fi movies...no emotion, no feelings. That way, when any normal person is faced with something that triggers emotions, I would not be affected in the same way. Pretty boring, but I would be assured of not caring about a single damn thing and not letting my feelings take off like a train rushing down the track, heading for certain derailment.

For me, it can be something so simple that opens the floodgates of emotion. Just like this…A few days ago, my ex-wife asked me to look for her old resume on my hard drive. She asked me to find it because she is looking for a new job. Of course, I forgot to do it. She called yesterday to see if I found it. No, I said, but I would look for it. I cracked the whip and commanded my computer to search for it and the results came back…not there. I could have sworn that it was there, but it wasn’t. I then searched for the old 3.5” floppy disks (remember them?) that it could have been stored on. Not there either. I then remembered that I emailed it to her years ago to her computer at her old job. So I began looking back through emails I had sent to her. I found it. I found lots of other things too. I found emails that I had sent her and emails to me from her. I found emails about cabins in the mountains; sent pictures of our daughter with black Sharpie tattoos on her hands, face, and body; funny emails to make her laugh. Each and every one of them with terms of endearment embedded within. Terms like “Baby”, “I love you”, “With all my love”.

I don’t know why I read all of them. I know me. I knew what would happen. As I finished reading them, a great sense of loss crushed down on me that triggered a flood of emotions. Sorrow for what was gone, for what is missing in my life. Love for her that I can’t wash from my soul and even if I could, I don’t think I would want to cleanse myself of it. Fear of things I have done and of things unknown that are to come. Tears that I couldn’t stop came rushing out, blurring my vision, making the words on the screen indiscernible; like smudge marks on a pair of clean white shoes. I don’t like being this way. I don’t like it that I allow myself to let my feelings take over. I don’t get so much of the emotion of anger. It takes a lot to really get me mad…but sad…I can bring that up at the drop of a hat.

I could easily erase all those emails from my computer. Wipe it clean and erase all those memories that bring on the feelings of loneliness and despair. But just like all that stuff in the upstairs of my garage, all that stuff in the downstairs of my garage…I hold on to stuff. I’m a pack rat to the 27^th power. Cards and letters; photos and 8mm videos; emails and text messages…I can’t seem to get rid of them. Most of that stuff has been ceremoniously put into the box of memories I wrote about earlier. I can’t just simply remove my hard drive from my computer and place it in there as well. To satisfy my pack rat cravings, I could print those emails out and place them in there, then erase the old messages from my computer. That way, it would make it harder for me to find them. They wouldn’t be just a mouse click away. But I probably won’t. I will probably leave them on there to torture myself. I don’t have to click on them. But I most likely will, someday.

That box is still on my bedroom floor. Every now and then I find something that belongs in there. On my fridge, there was a magnet picture frame with a close up of us from long ago. I just noticed it the other day, took it down, and placed it in the box. While at the fridge, I also noticed an old Family Circus cartoon that I had laminated. It had the newly married couple getting on a carousel called the Marriage-Go-Round. The husband was asking for “Two, please” to the ticket seller. The next frame had the entire family riding with all the kids vying for mom and dad’s attention…one of them saying, “Whee! I’m staying on here forever!” The final frame had just the parents again with the kids flying off the ride, and the parents in a seat made for two. The husband is telling the wife, “The ride’s not over and there are just the two of us left.” She replies, “There were just the two of us when we got on.” I loved that strip the minute I saw it. After my ex had moved out, I couldn’t stand to look at it anymore. But I left it on the fridge; I only simply turned it over. But I knew what was on the other side. That strip has joined the rest of the memories in that box.

I can’t see what I’m writing. These damned emotions again. Why are my eyes wet? It’s raining outside right now, and the sound of the drops on the roof and the new leaves on the trees is so soothing. Maybe it is the rain. But I haven’t been outside to get wet. It can’t be the rain on my face. It can’t be.