She would call when I’m having the first good solid sloppy wet cry in months.

So we have an appointment next Thursday. I’m letting your Daddy do at least some of the talking–he hasn’t made any calls because he’s too mad.

Naturally, now I can’t get back to crying. And I could really use it today–that release. It shakes loose the tension I carry. It took me hours of staring moodily at YouTube and listening to weepy music (yes, including The Weepies) to get there. I don’t think I’ll be back to that release for a while.

Goddamnit.

On the upside (?) I found several alternate English translation of the original Hungarian version of Gloomy Sunday (Video of my favorite version). It’s different from the English lyrics, and there are a few sections that really spoke to me (the parts about killing myself, not so much).

Sadly one Sunday I waited and waited
With flowers in my arms for the dream I’d created
I waited ’til dreams, like my heart, were all broken
The flowers were all dead and the words were unspoken
The grief that I knew was beyond all consoling
The beat of my heart was a bell that was tolling
(translated by Desmond Carter)

Dreaming, I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you asleep in the deep of my heart, here
Darling, I hope that my dream never haunted you
My heart is telling you how much I wanted you
(translated by Sam M. Lewis)

I think I’ll put on the Numa Numa song (yes, I know it’s really called Dragostea din tei by O-Z0ne) and clean the kitchen or something.

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