Half Awake and Unbearably Light

At around 8 o'clock tonight I was feeling cooped up and antsy, so I decided to go for a bike ride. I rode down Sunset towards Hollywood, then down Vermont, and finally looped around a few Hollywood neighborhoods before leisurely heading back in the direction of my home. It was a nice, if not somewhat sweaty ride. I got no less then four cat-calls, all in differing levels of lewdness. On the way back I rode past a recent car crash in which the driver of a SUV apparently decided to drive into the roll-down metal door of some sort of car-service business or another...he got about halfway through the door before giving up. The spectators were out in full force.
As I made my way up Sunset, towards my house, I decided that I wasn't ready to go home, and that I didn't want to have cereal again for dinner. So I stopped at the Thai place around the corner from my house that I'd been told was good. And good it was. The waiter was very nice (and welcomed me back, even though I'd never been there before), and the restaurant was pretty empty, which is something I like when I'm eating alone. Anyway, I ordered, and then sat reading my book and drinking a beer until the food came...it looked something like this:

The book I was reading (The Unbearable Lightness of Being) got me thinking about how, even though things are going well in my life, and there isn't anything "wrong" wrong...I still have this strange, persistent feeling of longing, although I'm not sure what it is I'm longing for. I figure I'll know it once I see it. It's difficult because even though I miss C and our life together, I know it's something I could never go back to...which almost makes it worse. It's like being homesick for your childhood home that was demolished years ago. I guess I just miss that feeling of being totally synced with someone other then my cat.
My fortune cookie said "You find beauty in ordinary things. Do not lose that ability". I won't...