the sine curve of emotion

or cosine. depending when the happiness begins (at pi over two or zero). taking this mathematical analogy another step too far, should the object of desire lie just below the asymptotic line of experience, much of my stress would be relieved. but i have seen that asymptote intersect with the abscissa and ignite fireworks that last for years. and when the last finally sputters out and is extinguished on the dewy morning grass, one marvels at one's inability to recall the past night's spectacle just right. there are large gaps that are sewn together with the golden thread of nostalgia, and the cloak is worn only at night when the heart becomes chilly.

this morning i rang the bell to the door of my workplace as usual, and one of my coworkers answered with an irritated "yes?" i have no choice but to ring this bell, for i have no key, and i feel it inappropriate to go climbing through windows. i answered, "morning." i decided quite hastily that a simple greeting may come off as more friendly than a gruff statement of my name. after all, i'd done it before with another girl and it had went quite smoothly. however, she replied with an exasperated, "what?" i was slightly shocked, and to remedy the unexpected confusion i quickly said, "hi it's jamie." once through the door and down the stairs to the office i share with three others, including this woman, i thought it only proper to inform her of what i initially said and possibly even laugh about the unnecessary hostility that arose from a trivial mishearing. "i initially said, 'morning.,'" i said, then chuckled politely. she turned her tired visage to me and spit out another more irritated, "what?" instead of giving up and avoiding confrontation, and therefore admitting defeat, i repeated myself, looking her directly in those piercing eyes, those eyes which ironically were loathe to remain transfixed by my stare for long. upon hearing this explanation again, she shook her head and coughed a grunt laden with meaning. here i realized that there was no turning back, and much like a nervous warrior charging into battle on a maddened horse, i released the next verbal volley: "well, i guess i'm starting off this morning pretty awkwardly." this was intended to lighten the mood, which had darkened considerably and suffered our audience of another female coworker, but instead it served much like gasoline thrown to put out a fire, for she replied, "yes, you are." i chuckled again--this is because i am not adept in the arts of anger, and instead force my ferocity inward where it scratches at my innards like a wildcat trapped in a sack.

why am i so gentle with those who grate at my patience so?