my careless contagion

This is a goodbye, and a hello. This will likely be my last post containing certain themes. It's not that I haven't let go. It's that some things still affect me. In all these things, my choice was to make things work. It was only with great reluctance that I was made to let go. I approached every relationship with kindness and patience. This isn't about healing. I will heal the rest of my life. Letting go is different. I had to try everything — and fail — first. It's a story that repeated. I was more than intentional. I showed up. I loved, was pushed away, and died over and over. Finally, I let go.  They say if a writer falls in love with you, you never die.  The last thing I remember was her small frame standing in the doorway crying. Fade Into You was playing from the turntable. The blonde girl walking on the dark street was so drunk, but when she saw me standing in the Ohio drizzle that night with nothing but the sodium lights illuminating us, she said something...

The Love of My Life is a lovely book by British author Rosie Walsh. The Brits do some good writing, I must say, though I'm mostly familiar with classic English literature, the kind that makes you want to go for a walk on the heath or throw yourself off a chalk cliff. I wonder how many people who read romance novels realize the idea of romantic love is a relatively new construct. In fact, romance novels did much to popularize it. There is some argument, of course, but historians generally agree marrying for love is a new concept and not a base instinct. Romantic love, as we call it, lasts no longer than 3 years. No wonder so many marriages fail. True, love is just a choice we make, otherwise the Bible wouldn't tell us to love one another or for husbands to love their wives, etc. It's a choice. But, for most, they need the feeling of falling in love first. That chemical bond is necessary. Hormones. Attraction. A woman knows within seconds if she wants to make love to a man. M...

I spent a lot of time on this blog giving space to my own words. Today is different. Today I got the following in my inbox. I publish it here because I can't form my own words. I am beyond devastated. I replied to it, of course, but that was for me. Now this is for her. This is what Cindy wrote to me last night, which I read this morning. The above photo is one of my favorites. Maybe that's her now, finally at peace about me. Free. I hope so.  *** Hi Joshua, I don't know how to put everything into words that I've been processing in my mind for the last few weeks, but I'm going to do it as clearly as I can. My cousin said something last week that really brought some clarity to my situation with you and me. She was talking about how she was so undecided when her now-husband was pursuing her. She would be all in with him and then pull back and go through that cycle over and over again. Sound familiar? She recounted the story in Mark 11, when the Pharisees were asking J...

January 28, 2018, I started this blog. I was alone and the divorce was nearly final (February 8). With no one to talk to about what I was feeling, I wrote here, originally transcribing from a notebook. What began as a form of therapy evolved into a journey of faith. What started in a very bad place ended in a much better place, though I am still alone. This blog garnered 34,000 hits over six years, which is a big surprise. (Also surprised attempts to create a new blog failed, but the love letters written to a certain woman were likely the reason anyone read here anyway.) Thank you to everyone who read here at some point. I prayed you got something out of it. Learned a lot about myself and am a lot humbler at its closing than at its beginning. Honesty, facing problems, and working toward solutions paid off, but it was God who did a work.  I cut my teeth on gospel songs. Win Worley's song sermons were my favorite and listened to them on cassette over and over. Such joy in that man...

I would be remiss to leave this space without posting something from Samiam (it's been a while, but I did post something before). I had to do a bit of a thinky-think session as to what to post, though. She Found You (1997) won, though many others deserve honorable mention. Simply wanted to post a good song from a band that captured my attention for many years. This was one of the first songs I heard and it's still a favorite. I even drove from Ohio to Pittsburg (staying in New Jersey, eww) to see them play a festival, and then turned around and caught them in Detroit about a week later. They continue to record music and tour. Anyway.  Other songs contending for the prize were Mud Hill (a proper breakup song), Dull (about how dull life can be when you're alone), and Sunshine (how I imagine being a girl and the object of someone's affection feels like). None of them made as much sense as She Found You, as it is clear I was greatly affected by relationships with women in...

Warning! This is a long post but worth it. Before I begin, let me say a few words. No one knows who wrote this. I will explain what it means to me at the end.  Judge Gently  Pray don't find fault with the man who limps or stumbles along the road, unless you have worn the shoes he wears, or struggled beneath his load, there may be tacks in his shoes that hurt, though hidden away from view, or the burden he bears, placed on your back, might cause you to stumble, too. Don't sneer at the man who's down today, unless you have felt the blow that caused his fall or felt the shame that only the fallen know. You may be strong; but still the blows that were his, if dealt to you in the selfsame way, at the selfsame time, might cause you to stagger, too. Don't be too harsh with the man who sins, or pelt him with word or stone, unless you are sure, yea doubly sure, that you have no sins of your own; for you know, perhaps if the tempter's voice should whisper as softly to you as ...