Hideous Glee.

In my last post, I mentioned "sick makes me laugh". I found this out in a discussion with a woman. We were in the "getting to know about your family history" stage. Beyond dating, beyond first physical activities (whatever you conceive that to be). She told me about her grandfather- a brilliant, well-known man in his international community. He died when her father was in his early teens. She told me her grandfather was riding in a jet airplane, the window blew out and he was sucked out the window. The scene was horrific in my mind, and I laughed. I could not control it. It was not a belly-laugh, not a joyous laugh. It was as if the absurdity of it took control, and I was being tickled unmercifully by the gods of chaos. I couldn't help it in any way. I was laughing, completely unwillingly, as I said "Oh my god, no, honey. That's awful. I am so sorry." It didn't last long, but it surprised us both.
A few minutes later I apologized profusely, but I know I hurt her feelings. I know she believed me, and she had occasion to see it again in other circumstances where hideous absurdity became risible to me. She knew it was unwilling, and not something I enjoyed, but something beyond conscious thought.
I'm sure knowing that didn't make it any easier, but I am also sure that she probably will today occasionally say, "This guy I used to date, when I told him how my grandfather died getting sucked out an airplane window, LAUGHED! Can you believe it?"
So decreed.