my careless contagion

I visited McCook, Neb., again Feb. 5 and 6 (no, I didn't take these photos). This post contains thoughts about my time living and going to school here more than two decades ago, probably reconstituted from previous visits, but I felt something was left buried here, like the reason why my life went a completely different direction from what was anticipated. Also, I really wanted a bath so got a hotel room with a bathtub. I needed some time away and knew if I stayed close to home, I would end up at work (and the point was to get away). Anyway, what happened? Well, for one thing, I saw Cindy for a bit. More later. Also, this is a long post. Sorry.  Why McCook again? Am I obsessed? Vaguely. I actually dream about this place: the streets, houses, smells, feelings, and what I did. We often dream about unresolved things. Maybe it is about my education. Maybe about a girl. Maybe about youth wasted. Maybe all of it. Driving the streets and highways I used to drive brought back one overridin...

My white bears (hastily scrawled): 1) End up alone 2) Angry 3) Defeated 4) Paralyzed 5) Drinking 6) Twisted up (whatever that means) 7) Suicide I read an article a few months ago about facing your white bears, which are unwanted thoughts (a bit more:  http://www.apa.org/monitor/ 2011/10/unwanted-thoughts.aspx ), often worst-case scenarios. The idea of writing them down is thought to be helpful because once you put these things in front of you, you can take them apart. By taking them apart, you realize these are things you've either previously dealt with or are figureoutable. Once you say them or write them down, you realize these are common problems and you already have the tools to deal with them. In essence, they become smaller on paper than in your mind.  When I got divorced, I was faced with a variety of fears and uncertainties. I wrote down the seven scariest. I've already experienced the top four. Number six, I suppose, means that my inside...

It's time to say goodbye to what I thought we had. I don't know if I was realistic in believing it was truly how I saw it, but it doesn't matter now. There's nothing left to do but say goodbye. I don't think I'm strong enough to do this. I don't feel strong enough to hold myself up in a chair right now. It has to be done, and I'm never going to be okay some distant someday until I let it go completely. The pain is mostly over. Now it's just me holding on to sadness, and sadness does what sadness does. We've parted ways. We've walked our separate paths now. We've seen that neither of us had what the other needed. It's so hard to miss her sometimes. And, it's the only thing I can actually feel most days. If I say goodbye to this, then I will have nothing — just a big, black hole in my chest. Still, I know this is all I will ever have if I don't let go. Letting go means I can have something someday...

My grandmother fell yesterday and broke her hip. She had surgery to repair it. As far as I know, she'll be fine. She was doing exercises. For the record, my grandmother is 101. I hope this will be the end of her living alone. Maybe this will be the moment she realizes it's okay if she lives with some sort of assistance. It's hard to acquiesce when you've lived by yourself for so long. I'm nearly 41 and my grandmother has been retired as long as I can remember. But, she's always been busy. She volunteers a lot. She was a founding member of a church that's not even a quarter of a mile from where I live now. She won't be there this Sunday, though. It seems like most people have a sweet little thing of a grandmother. My grandmother is a tough little shit. I don't think I've seen her be soft too many times. She had a favorite among us brothers, and it wasn't me. I can remember her picking me up from school ...

I don't know that I've ever been so disappointed with myself as I am right now. I can no longer hide from my actions, what I've done to someone so precious to me. The changes I've brought to her life have been many, and hurtful. When before there was a perfect family union – one girl and one boy, two parents who loved them – now there is a rift and brokenness and an unholy hole in everyone's hearts. This is my legacy. This is my torment. Love doesn't always look like what we think it should. Sometimes love is keeping your distance and minding your own business. I love the animals I see when I take my walks in the forest, but I do not try to touch them or take them home. I should have treated the woman I love the same way: look but don't touch. My eyes are red in the mirror as I start my day. My day ends the same way. I've been crying, but not for my own sake. I can see her, walking through the wasteland of her world, jus...

I woke with a start. I knew I couldn't go back to sleep. It was 5 a.m., and my heart was pounding because the dreams were so real, because I was at my own funeral, and wasn't it ironic, man? There I was, walking, trying not to get hit by cars when I crossed the road, amazed by all the people who I knew and didn't know who wanted to see me put in the ground. The truth is, I feel like that most days. Like I died so long ago, left myself in the dirt somewhere. Where? My boyhood home? That night I didn't kiss the girl? The night I kissed the wrong girl? The night she cried in her underwear on the dining room floor and it was so cold? Maybe when I left her behind in that place, when I drove those lonely miles to start a new life? When she told me with the devil in her eyes that she would kill me if I left her? Every day is another step closer to that day they put me in the ground. Why is it so important that people are there to see it when I'm not even there...

It's a brand-new world you've been born into a world of wonder a world of pain and uncertainty But this is what you wanted this is what you needed maybe it's not too late, you said to start over Before she left town that girl said she couldn't do it couldn't make it You said you could make up the difference spread your legs I'll do the rest But she was waging a different war and she needed to get back home she could see you crying in her rearview mirror Little did she know she took a part of you that day the most important part still beating in the passenger seat You'll never see her again because she saw that thing in you that thing that you know no one should ever see Most days I pray just to make it back to my bed so I can hold her in my dreams so I can kiss her on the mouth on her neck, down her back so I can smell her hair and taste her skin run my hands down her t...