Oh, and by the way, the story fails the analogy to physical intimacy on many levels.
Frankly, cozy, there are days when I am strong, and cool, and confident and happy. And then there are days when I am cynical, and depressed, and needy, and bitcchy [sic], and nihilist. Kind of like you are right now. On days like today, I feel ready to throw the proverbial towel in. Instead, I just keep coming back to my little box, way in the back of the closet, that, in the darkness of the closet, I open. There it is...the faintest of faint lights. A glimmer of hope? Maybe. But sometimes, again, on days like today, the cynic in me stares hard at the glimmer and thinks, "nope...it's just the ambient light reflecting off my own eyes, and all that is in the box is a mirror."
