I’m not generally given to bouts of maudlinism.

I’m a fairly emotional person, but I keep a pretty tight wrap on them, my emotions,  most of the time.  While I bitch and gripe about things that annoy me, the truth is that I internalize and boil off most of the mawkish sentimentality that is mine, without anyone ever seeing it.  For whatever reason, the sorts of things that break  one’s heart, are the most personal for me, and I never share them with anyone, ever.

And before you start the old song about “needing someone to talk to” and “emotions are nothing to be embarrassed about,” let me tell you that I’ve never been embarrassed by crying, if I feel the need to cry. I’ve cried at movies, often cry reading, music can have me bawling like a baby, and I couldn’t care less who sees me.  It’s not embarrassment or a feeling of needing to be macho, or anything like that, it’s just that for whatever reason, some things are completely private; some things are mine to suffer alone, if you will, and I guard those things jealously.

Grief over someone I love dying, or missing people whom I love, and the ache  that it engenders, the muted heartbreak we all carry over some lost love or other…all those sorts of things are extremely private to me, and I very, very seldom share them with anyone.

Not only do I think those things private, I generally truncate any sort of rising tide of mawkishness within me, since, you know, those things aren’t fun very often, not for me, and so if I can short circuit them, so much the better.  I mean, it’s not that don’t deal with things of this nature, I do. Just, once I’ve dealt with them, I put away the ache and the heartbreak where I know it will be safe, but where I don’t have to look at it except when I want to or need to.

Still, there are those times when a chance headlong run into something sets off a chain reaction of stored memories,  and they break out of their confines and come flooding back into the center of my mind, surprising me and nearly overwhelming me with how strong and fresh they seem.

But, after it’s passed, and after I’ve put my heart back where it belongs, I’m sometimes forced to admit that it was…well…a sweet pain that I may want to indulge in a little more often.

Have a great Christmas, you people.