My spirit seems caught in the same persistent drizzle that's covering downtown Cleveland today. I'm aching with a dull anxiety and I am struggling, in vain, to take care of the loneliness currently camped out in my body. I went to work today, but I spent most of the shift in quiet productivity, and I recall as I write this how Chris described my appearance when I was at the Root: I always seemed driven, insular, unapproachable. I wore a hat and hid in it, and buried the rest of myself in bowls of cookie dough and muffin batter. I was like that today, at the Greenhouse, and I guess that's why I left after nearly 7 hours feeling remarkably alone.

I am really bad at connecting with people. Sometimes I try, and fail- and sometimes I don't even try. I saw Chick for a split second after getting home from work, but I left shortly after he walked in and rode my bike for nearly two hours, talking only to the clerks at my favorite produce stands at the West Side Market. By the time I returned home, Chick and Niki had gone off to Kendall Cliffs to play with cams and ropes, and I won't see them until they come home at ten in a cloud of chalk dust. My legs are on the edge of exhaustion from two days of biking and another re-introductory jog, or else I'd be out on my bike again. Instead, I'm having a coffee date with myself, at Loop.

My failed attempts at socialization make me less and less excited to ask again. I have a few friends, and while they are the absolute best people on the planet- the ones who have weathered my moods and emerged on the other side of my outbursts just as faithful and loving as ever- they are often unavailable all at the same time. As is the way with these things, this always happens when I most feel the need for some real company.

....Funny I should conclude that thought just now, because I heard as I was typing a familiar voice, and walked downstairs and into a hug at the counter- Will had come in for an espresso, and wrapping my arms around him in his hoodie made me feel, all at once, at home.

How is it that some people are so comforting? I actually don't even care that much. That hug just felt so good. I feel a little bit less lonely now.

Impeccable timing, Will.