Part of my unease is probably to do with my brother. There were a couple of moments when he seemed as far away from me as a dust particle floating in a dark and lifeless part of the universe. I saw in him tiny hints of autism or Asperger's Syndrome -- a certain unrelatedness. And it made me cold. It reminded me of his cold, aloof father, my step-father, and I wondered if these disorders are genetic. Dave was actually the one to suggest the possibility that he has Asperger's. He was joking, but only half.
I love him and I felt an almost desolate feeling as I hugged him goodbye at the airport Tuesday afternoon, just an hour after we'd arrived from Vegas. He put his arms around me awkwardly, like a badly constructed cyborg, and was sure to hold me as far away from him as possible. Mahavira and I had strange, repeating, tedious arguments for the rest of the afternoon and again the next day. We still haven't settled back into our usual routine. I'm in a fog and am considering an increase in my daily dose of happy-pill. It's such a weird thing.
Why should two days in a miserable city throw me into such a tailspin? I feel like holing up in a quiet cabin somewhere in the woods for a weekend, just to think about everything. I'd like to walk in a hushed forest, breathe cold air and look at the trees. I think that would help.