my careless contagion

A used condom. That's what I saw. That's what sparked this post.  I was hiking around a place called the Rock Maze not far from where I live. It's a place for fun and games and illicit activities such as recreational drug use. And, apparently, sex in the dirt. Oh, and it's a rock maze. I walked around a cliff face and saw a used condom in the dirt. It's nothing I hadn't seen before but didn't expect to see the evidence of someone's fun at that particular moment. As I shook my head and walked away, I thought of how my idea of sex has changed in the last few years. It used to be so common, so throw-away. Like that errant condom. It's strange how something that used to be so common can now seem so precious. When I think of sex, I think of one woman. And I can't even think of having sex with her in the dirt and leaving the condom behind. Really, I just want to hold her hand. Let's face it. Sex can be anything we want it to be. As lon...

It's true I took it hard when she left my life. It's true I continue to struggle, though not as much. I know why it hit me so hard, too. She is the thought I keep coming back to, but I will try not to beleaguer the point and test the patience of my readers. I thought, perhaps, there was something wrong with me. Why couldn't I move on?  The world is full of tragic love stories. It makes for great fiction, but too often it drives nonfiction storylines. The lives of many poor souls, including me, are a testament to that fact. There is something resolute in us that refuses to move on, to grasp for another branch, so to speak, and move forward through the forest of life. We're stuck on the one our heart has chosen. Amazingly, for us, it is better to love and not have the one we love instead of another.  There are many stories of a love that extends beyond the grave. Many people have even died of a broken heart to join a loved one who has passed on. The need for our b...

Today is her birthday.  I wish I was there to pull back the covers from her sleepy head and kiss her tired cheeks and neck good morning. I'd whisper a "happy birthday" before the day even began.  It makes me smile to think of her enjoying her birthday, surrounded by her kids, maybe a family visit or well-wishes, too. And lots of friends wishing her a happy day.  It's Sunday, so I hope she sleeps in. I'd love to sleep in with her and wake to a lazy day full of stuff like a late breakfast, some sports on tv, maybe a brisk walk around the neighborhood or to the park and a hurry-home jaunt home to brace ourselves from the cold with hot chocolate.  I'd love to hold her on the couch with me, sit her on my lap, enjoy her lazy-day-crazy hair and just be.  All of this could have been. S he could have been mine. Our children could cuddle with us, piled on haphazardly in perfect unity, love, and devotion. My heart races when I think of us like that. My m...

When I sit alone in my little apartment. When I toss and turn in the night and you aren't there. When I talk to my son and he seems so far away. When I think of all the times you took advantage of my heart. When I see the damage that you've done to me. When I realize what a waste it was to love you. When I cry in my car. When I cry at night. When I get down on my knees and break once again. Sometimes all that's left is anger. If you hadn't been so callous and cold-blooded. If you hadn't mistaken me for an average man and an average love. If you hadn't spent so many hours with other men. If you hadn't disregarded my feelings, even as I broke before you. If you hadn't fooled me with your foolishness, been so careless with your carelessness. If you hadn't been so wonton. If you hadn't been so utterly stupid and reckless, so endlessly belligerent toward my soul. If you hadn't been so maliciously selfish. If you hadn...