I am convinced that there is something about the cyclical passage of time that resonates deeply with our psyche, in the same way that we feel the change of the seasons. I have dreamed about Meg this week, which is something that never happens to me, and she has been on my mind far more frequently than is normal. I awoke today, wondering why she was haunting my dreams, something I don't want, since I wake up with sorrow in my heart. As I pondered this, I realized that the end of August and the beginning of September marks the time when I told her that I wanted to share my life with her, and her response to me that this would never happen.
I think it's a pain that may probably haunt me this time of year for the rest of my life, like an old war wound of a soldier that achest at the coming of a cold front.