You're gonna make me lonesome when you go

This morning at a coffee shop I had the good fortune of sitting next to two awesome women who quickly became friends -- we bonded over the psychological hazing that is the process of getting a Ph.D. (they are in progress, and I have some trade secrets about how I got mine done) and the many forms of heartache we'd all experienced. Though two of us are currently dating men and one of us women, we found that the experience of putting yourself out there only to find that in some way it didn't do it for you or it didn't do it for the other person (at least not enough of the time) or the timing wasn't right because the wounds were too raw or SOMETHING didn't work was universal -- sexual preference didn't matter. There are things that help -- being clear about what you want and speaking your mind -- but even still, it's tough being out there. The night doesn't always end the way you want it to -- and sometimes no matter how it ends it is the fact that it ends at all that's hard. The separation.

Alas, this is the song that popped into my head as I dealt with the separation tonight, and as I searched for a version on you tube and listened to the lyrics, I found great satisfaction in all of the apparent contradictions in the first verse:

I've seen love go by my door
It's never been this close before
It's never been so easy or so slow
I've been living in the dark too long
When something's not right it must be wrong
You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

They continue throughout the song, but rather than reading them all, you can listen to Bob singing it live in 1976 or a pretty sweet cover by Shawn Colvin. I'm off to bed. Alone.