mel·an·chol·y

/ˈmelənˌkälē/ a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.

Origin
melancholy
Middle English: from Old French melancolie, via late Latin from Greek melankholia, frommelas, melan- ‘black’ + kholē ‘bile,’ an excess of which was formerly believed to cause depression.

Melancholy is one of my favorite words.

It makes me think of cauliflower and cantaloupe, and it’s kind of fun to say. It also conjures up memories of a time when CE and I affectionately called each other Collie (which originated from the nickname Colin… and continued to warp into other similar sounding names like Zollin, Zoll, Dolin, etc.)..

And in my brain I can imagine a version of myself that lives in a different universe.

Her name is Melan Collie.

Despite the name, she leads a happy life. Her hair is always multi-colored and never fades. All she eats is fruit, it’s all she needs. The grass is soft and spongy, so no one really wears shoes. Melan travels and roams freely.. I imagine her thoughts are fairly basic, but mostly happy. Pretty much just shapes and confetti rolling around in her head. I think she probably has a dog, or whatever animal/thing is the equivalent in their universe. Maybe it’s just a rock with a smiley face drawn on it.

Unlike Melan Collie, I, in this universe, feel pangs of melancholy quite often.

I like to imagine myself as a bright, bubble, sunny person. I try to project that every day. But sometimes, I can see that maybe Melancholy is my natural state. Maybe the real me is melancholy. It’s kind of a big, giant loop.. I start to feel melancholy.. A pensive state of sadness, typically with no obvious cause. Pensive is the key word. It’s dangerous when you start to think about sadness and discover there is no reason behind it. No ‘thing‘ that made it so. If there is no reason, can there be a solution? How do you solve a problem… When there is no… Problem?

Is this a riddle? Perhaps.

But I guess, the thing about feelings of melancholy is that, often, as quickly as they set in, they vanish. The black bile simply evaporates, to return – another moment, another day.

Xx
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