my careless contagion

For my first 20 years, I thought I'd never be in a relationship and certainly never thought I'd have sex ... mainly because I thought I'd never be in a relationship. And I wasn't the kind of guy who could have casual sex.  Then I enjoyed sex (with all its ups and downs) in spite of myself and the many marital troubles I had for many years. I thought things would continue that way. Naturally, after my separation, the sex ceased. This seemed like new territory for me, but it was just a return to my pre-relationship life. I fought the idea that I've come to accept now: that I will never have sex again. Here's why. I can't, or won't, have sex with a woman I'm not in love with. There's only one woman I love enough to have sex with. She's not in my life. It's a simple equation. No girl = no sex.  Then there's the fact that I'm pretty sure everything stopped working down there. That's a new thing, too. Of course, I have ...

It's safe to say I'm driven. I'm not driven in an ordinary way. I haven't made anything out of myself in my 41 years. It's more like a personal drive, beating myself at something, having my way in some insipid way. It's important for a moment, but there's no real reason for it.  It's a pointless way of being driven. There's no payoff. It's not good for me. I push myself often to the point of fatigue and beyond. I've gone many years with little sleep, and to what end? Do I live in a comfortable house? Do I have a sizeable pension waiting for me? A home in the suburbs? I have nothing.  I have not failed to notice the never-ending stream of people in various media who are also driven. Many of them have horrible backgrounds, stories of neglect, abuse, hardscrabble upbringings, etc. At some point, and perhaps erroneously, I connected the dots. I believe abuse can often lead to being driven.  I watched the Netflix documentary of Quincy Jo...

Stop sounding so fucking sad.   This is a screenshot from American Psycho , a movie I've never seen. I've read the book, and that's enough, as I'm still disturbed by that book many years later. No work of fiction I've ever read has affected me like American Psycho . Bret Easton Ellis' characters are so devoid of humanity, it's unreal. Or perhaps too real. His books are about characters I don't care about, even hate. But they are compelling. It's amazing to read a book and not find a single character you enjoy or relate to. Sometimes my life has resembled his fiction, sadly.  There are a lot of reasons for me to feel sad. There are a lot of reasons for me to feel upset. Those reasons have always existed. Some will never go away. But, sadness is a choice. And, if sadness is a choice, then it follows that happiness is a choice. I've had enough sadness to last a lifetime. I choose happiness. I choose joy. I choose silliness and fun and all the...

I loved her with a love that was bigger than me. It filled me up until it leaked out in messy ways, embarrassing ways, lovely ways, little ways, big ways, and forever ways. I loved her with a love that could have swayed any woman, but she was not any woman. She was a ghost by the time I realized it was all over and done with. When she left the room, I was still picking out baby names for our love child. When she put me down and put me away, I was scrawling poetry for her across the sky.  I must have been exceptionally dull or blind because she made her escape while I was dreaming about our future. When I said I wanted to marry her, she must have been terrified. When I told her I loved her, I can't even imagine how she felt. She ran from me with a purpose and speed that equaled the love I felt for her. The more I loved, the more she shrank away.   If I could love her like this — even with the sadness mixed in — how could I love her if our hearts were one? It wo...

She's Out of My League is a comedy released in 2010. You can tell by the flip-phones. I've seen this movie before but watched it again because I needed a laugh. I didn't expect to see themes from my life portrayed before me so plainly.  Jay Baruchel plays Kirk, a good guy extraordinaire, a dorky guy with low self-esteem. Alice Eve plays the hot girl, a perfect ten who got out of a relationship with a very manly, perfect kind of guy (nicknamed "Foot Long") who was cheating on her. What makes the movie work is that you like both the main characters. And, they are relatable. We've all been in or contemplated a relationship with someone "out of our league."  The woman I'm in love with I've always had this opinion about: She's always been too good for me. As long as I've known her — stretching back to the fourth grade — I've felt this way about her. In grade school, I used to tease her just to see if I could bring her ...

Camila Cabello's Never be the Same is a song about, well, sex. Okay, everything about Camila Cabello is about sex. Really, though, this song is about what love does to a person's brain. I can wholeheartedly agree that I will never be the same after ... her.  This is a fan-made video featuring scenes from the movie Nerve , starring Emma Roberts. Strangely enough, I've seen this movie. I guess it's kind of a love story, but it's hard to tell with all the other stuff going on. I think Emma Roberts is an underrated actress, but perhaps that's because I would like to see her in more movies. Hell, I've even seen the Nancy Drew movie she was in.  All of that is immaterial to this post, though.  There is a rush that comes with the first flush of love. I don't care if you are straight, gay, bi, or whatever your predilection, you will feel it. It's like a drug, which is what the song relates this first stage to. It's the infatuation stage, the ...

  The light hasn't risen outside. I'm tired, but waking next to you makes my whole day seem possible. I can't wait to get this day over with so I can fall back in bed with you, tired as always, but where I want to be.  It feels like your body is on fire. How can such warmth emanate from such a tiny girl? My fingers trace your thigh. Stopping briefly on your hip, I pull you closer to meet my hungry body. My hands continue up your side, under your arm, and find a home cupping your chest. Oh, but they aren't done. They're just resting until you wake in my arms.  The little noises you make in your sleep are perfect, just like you. Everything you do makes me feel at home and at ease.  Somehow, in the deadness of sleep, you feel my intentions. You pull from me with sleepy reluctance at first but fall back against me with finality. We are one body, one flesh, and one thought right now. Before the day pulls us apart, I ravish you in the stillness of the morning....

The Handsome Family has a song called All the Time in Airports , which talks about seeing someone familiar "just a hundred feet away." This person is always just out of reach , and when you get too close, they disappear. It's a phantom trick of the mind to make you believe you're seeing someone. You want them to appear, so like a dream they appear, but you're not really seeing them. So, too, this happens with television. Watch enough and you'll see people you know.  I'm one of perhaps millions enamored with Natalia Dyer's character on the Netflix hit Stranger Things. My reasons are personal. It's not like I have a thing for her. I think she's a great actress and she's obviously attractive, too. My reason for watching is because she reminds me of someone. If you've been following this blog, then I'm sure you can guess with 100 percent accuracy who that woman is.  Natalia's character, Nancy Wheeler, is from a good family...

Although it seems like all has been lost and all has been taken away, I know this thing in me won't stop until all has been laid waste. This thing in me wants to burn down this house, burn it to the ground, and laugh as the rain unsuccessfully tries to put it out. There will be ashes in place of me. There will be a new day, but I won't see it.  There's a hate in me that's turned inward, tearing as it screams its way from bone to sinew, from organ to meat, from synapse to socket and back. It's furious, and it's tired and bored. There's nothing to see here but the end. And it will see it.  The end is near for me. I feel it quivering in my chest. I feel it whispering on the wind. I hear the layman and the scholar alike tell of it. There's nothing left in this world I want to do. Nothing left I want to say. All my love has been taken away, replaced with a bitter and vile substance called life.  When my world burns, I will feel a final warmth. When ...

If I let go of something that never belonged to me in the first place, is anything actually lost? If the woman I loved spread herself among the stars — big men, small men, and men in between — have I lost anything?  I loved her undeniably through my best years and through the worst of times. She was like a metronome in my heart, but one day that metronome stopped. That day was the end of forever.  I don't know when it happened, but it happened as sure as the sun and moon. She died in my heart, and at her own hand. She pierced me through so many times, all the blood ran out, and I was left standing but with the wind whistling through my veins. She kept me on like a sharecropper to work her fields as my mind escaped over the hills and into the woods a thousand times. And, one day, it became a reality. I was gone, and she was left holding my broken chains.  She always said she was afraid of "forever." Somehow, I got her to believe. When I put the ring (titanium, be...

I give up. She wins. My ex wins the prize, whatever it might be, for being such a fantastic person in the face of adversity.  Boy, she's really something else. She shines with an angelic light. She can do no wrong. What a beautiful, wonderful person.  That man she was married to, well, let's just say she's better off now. He was sad, petulant, angry, and morose. Tired and upset all the time. What on earth did she see in him? I wish her the best of luck without him.  Oh, that little precious boy, though. He wants to see his dad. I wonder what he sees in that sad old man. I guess boys love their fathers. But his dad doesn't want to see him. He moved away. How that must break his little heart.  His mother remains so strong through so much adversity. She doesn't even want to talk about the pain in her marriage, bless her heart. She's going to make some man really happy someday once she's done mourning the loss of the dour one. He must have d...

He likes to layer his look. He has two watches on and lots of stuff in his pockets, too.  I miss my son. He's the child I never thought I'd have. I wanted many children, but I got one. But he's worth a whole bunch. If you met him, you'd understand.  I miss him because I don't get to see him much. Even though I'm not sure what to do with him or what to say to him, I still want him around.  My prayer was I'd be able to go back to school. I abandoned all hope of being able to finish what little I could, which turned out to be an associate's degree. I left these things in God's hands and told Him I'd go back only if He opened the door. I was surprised once again because that door flung open this year.   I have 50 percent custody of my son, which I thought was fair. I could have had primary custody. I didn't think that was fair to my son or his mom. But, I don't see him 50 percent of the time because I work full-time and am taking ...

I have lost. I've lost her. I've lost many things. I don't know what else to say, but I'll probably say a bunch of stuff anyway.  The thought came crashing in on me one night: "All is lost." That thought has remained with me. I know that truly not all is lost. Still, of all the feelings that have coursed through my veins in the last year-plus, this one is preeminent. Here's the thing. I'm very practiced in letting go. My whole life I've had to let go of places, people, things, parts of myself, things precious, and things mundane. This world is ultimately temporary, and we with it.  It should not have surprised me that I had to let her — the woman of my dreams — go. It should not have surprised me that I took it so hard, either. Precious things are hard to let go. The last time I saw her, she felt she had to give her marriage another shot. I sat and prayed with her, but she seemed so far away. She had already pulled away. Before we met tha...

Just Another Girl by The Killers. This was released in November 2013, almost exactly 5 years ago. The video is a sort of retrospective, combining elements from past The Killers videos. It's an odd video mostly for that reason. And I don't get the concept of the girl in place of Brandon Flowers, unless they're trying to say she kind of took over his mind and then his body. Playing with gender is pretty trendy right now. I guess it doesn't matter. The song is saying it's impossible to move on when you want only one girl. I can understand the sentiment.  I think a lot of people have a hard time moving on after they set their heart on someone. You wake up every morning with that person as the first thing on your mind, and you go to bed with them still in your head. It's like they live there more than you do.  It's been almost two years since she came back into my life. It was innocent at first, but then I started to overstep. There was something about he...

Yeah, Taylor Swift does it again. I've been listening to this song for a while now. It's a little endearing seeing Taylor not smile. In fact, the whole song is endearing. I understand the delicate feeling she's talking about. I'm sure I'm putting my own meaning into it. That's okay. That's what I do. There is a tired feeling to this song. Tired of relationships not working. Tired of being alone. I don't know. I'm staring down the other side of the hill and I feel like I'm picking up speed. On my tombstone, it will say, "He was okay. Also, he was really tired."  My reputation is crap. I tried to do the right thing during my separation and divorce. I didn't want to regret anything. I didn't pay attention to the public side of my divorce because I figured it wasn't anyone's business. That's where I lost. It figures that not only was I traumatized by my relationship, but traumatized by what I had to accomplish ...