69/365 The Man Cave

MAN CAVE
She has no idea why I come down here

Or what it is that I do

For hours.

I don't suppose I expect her to.

It is the man cave, after all, 

and according to Dr. John Gray,

she and I are from different planets.

He says I am here to process stress

by not actually dealing with the issue.

By letting the issue rest, rather than stewing and talking, 

I work through it and deal.

To her, 

I am avoiding the problem,

and what's worse, 

I am loafing.

I've got the television on, 

the computer overclocked, 

the fire blazing, 

and a cold beverage gathering beads of condensation 

while I shuffle through the music of my formative years

lean back in the comfy chair, put my feet up

and remember days that will not happen again.

Some days, I play a video game 

with far-away people I have never met

rather than interact with those creaking the floorboards directly above me.

To her, this is a crime.

To me, it is blissful solitude.

She wants to talk

She needs to talk.

There are things happening

There is stress building

and according to her

There is no other way to relieve her agitated state

than to sit with her 

with the television off

and make eye contact

and listen

and be sure to remember what she says. 

She can always tell when "uh-huh" means I am wishing I was elsewhere.

That's how they do this on Venus

They want to talk

but do not want an answer.

Solutions are of no use there.

I know, it's ridiculous

They need you to listen to them tell about the problem

and all of the issues surrounding the problem

and how the issues surrounding the problem make them feel

and how feeling that way about the issues surrounding the problem 

has affected their level of contentment in such a way.

But they do not want to solve the problem. 

And in particular they do not want you to solve the problem,

the one they just made you sit and focus and listen to

and not say "uh-huh" unless you really mean it.

They don't need to actually get to a solution.

They just need to very clearly identify the need for one

and maybe cry a little or something

and then, 

I don't know, 

I guess they're just good.  

Or at least better enough that they don't need you as urgently.

I'll never really get it.

It's like calling the auto mechanic and spending an hour 

telling them how your car is this noisy jalopy 

that is one backfire away from falling to pieces in the middle of the interstate at rush hour

and then just continuing to drive it around, 

never having had the intention of asking the man to repair it.

This, she seems to understand perfectly.

And yet, 

she does not understand why I would prefer to sit in a comfy chair

eating junk food and drinking an ice cold beverage 

with all of the lights out

except for the glow of the fire

and Mystery Science Theater on the television, 

socially networking on one computer

while killing the bad guys on the other,

pausing every so often to scratch a line onto the waiting page of a poetry journal

left agape on the desktop.

She thinks I am avoiding her

as though I plan to stay down here forever

as though she really, actually wants to hear about the struggles of my day

as though she is ready with a quick fix solution to the smallest of my everyday annoyances

that I have not already considered

as though my sitting in the comfy chair should be taken personally by her

that it has any deeper meaning than, 

"I just want to go do this mindless thing for an hour"

Or six hours.

I will emerge peaceful

It will help me to function after

to listen without distraction

to love her better and more

She doesn't have to understand the magic of the man cave

just the function

the need for diversion, escape and solitude

and trust that it will all be for the best.

They may not do this where she comes from,

but this,

this is something I need.

This is just the Martian way