Writer Laren Stover made a case for melancholy in Sunday's New York Times. She exalted every excuse to be blue and extolled every morbid thought. She even imagined a world where she could retreat with her own darkness and despair. I closed my eyes and conjured the last time my world was truly black. Hopelessly hopeless. Months and months and months of downright morbidity. I was thirty-one and dumped by a man I wanted to marry.