On Melancholy

(Late) Last night I wrote this to a friend to whom I'd been a shitty correspondent. Today it feels more honest than I normally allow and so I'm sending it all of you:

I'm sorry for being MIA. The spring depresses me because I feel like things get better for everyone in the world (the girls in their sundresses, the SwissBank baseball team), but I still feel unsettled for some reason. And it's not a warranted sadness; my problems are banal; my basic needs are provided and then some, I have good friends and an easy life. Feeling melancholy for what seems like no good reason is even more deflating and writing others to pretend like i'm all well and good feels like cheating, even if the writing makes me happy. writing to say i'm sad feels like complaining. i hate doing that too but i do it all the time. i'm told you shouldnt complain unless you say what you want to be better: i want my friend to realize he's moving in with a shitty girl, i want my sad friends to be happy, i want my banal problems to seem like blessings, i want people to be more reasonable and grateful.