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A Case of Habromania

How can I explain?
I could tell you it is an addiction,
But that sounds like an old story.
Surely you must know. You knew my mother,
You spoke with my father. It is in my blood.

This disease is my destiny.
You might argue, you will want to say,
“No!  That is not in you!”  But,
Have no illusions, it is not only buried inside,
and intermingled in the marrow of my bones.
It is me.

How will you understand?
You will have your sorrows,
Your heart will be broken.
It is part of living. So I am told.
But for all of your songs: songs of joy,
songs of pain, songs of staggering beauty
But such songs of shattered hope will never be mine.
I am tone-deaf to despair.

We cannot be one, in harmony or dissonance.
How could you ever understand?
I will never be your mate; for
I can never share your sorrow.
In my every dawn, cheer rises with the sun;
My sunny disposition does not vanish with the day.
My illusions of well-being have no end.
My bright side has no dusk.

I cannot be cured.  I would like to say I am sorry.
But I do not know sorrow. Regret is something
I will never comprehend.
Please excuse me; I really must go now –
I feel a belly-laugh coming on.
Mourning does that to me.


Today is “H” day, according to the A to Z April Blogging Challenge.  Since today is Monday, and Monday is my day for posting “Monday Joy,” I decided to combine the two efforts into one.  Brenda, at “The Sunday Whirl,” was concerned that this week’s Wordle would be too depressing. She need not have worried.  With a good old “H” word like habromania, who could be depressed?  Because habromania is defined as a form of insanity featuring cheerful delusions.