Fog is suspension between two forms-melancholy. So I suppose it would be appropriate to use the simile “my feelings are suspended like fog.” The hope is that like the different forms of the water cycle, cycles are constantly changing-moving. In our liquid states, while gliding along in life, it takes the heat of the son to force our transformation. As well in our vapor form a change in temperature becomes necessary to continue the cycle.
So melancholy is fathomable, with an understanding that it is only cyclical. Happiness and pain do not forever cease on this side of eternity. Until we as individuals crossover we must become skilled at the art of keeping it moving.