my careless contagion

There's something about her. I can't always put my finger on it. Sometimes I can name it. Sometimes not. It just melts me. Every time. Listen, I'm a man. Been through hard things. Hard times. Endure hard things every day. Wade through pain and frustrations that would make many crack. Sometimes I feel like cracking, too. Sometimes I have to pray hard and fast through strangled tears just to make it through. I've worked more years than those I work with have been alive. I'm tough. Rough around the edges. Stoic and brutish and sometimes cynical and hard. But there is something about that woman that melts me. Every time. All that shellac and veneer. All that painstaking patina. Gone when she's near. She has no idea, I'm sure. I become soft as a baby around her. My heart beats stronger. My mind is set ablaze. The shrapnel in my flesh doesn't hurt. Tiredness in my bones doesn't intrude. I become gooey in her presence. Like clay in her hands. The best parts...

They say you can judge the real power of a man by the size of the smile of the woman next to him. And I see you beaming as you approach him. It's your wedding day. You're more beautiful than I remember.  I'm so glad (and apprehensive) you invited me to your wedding. To see your man's hands tremble slightly as you walk your floating-on-air way of walking to him, your eyes locked, it's so special and so perfect.  As he says his vows, I hear a little tremble in his voice. There is excitement, but there is also a wall of emotion pushing against his vocal cords; it's rivulets of feeling I hear. I can tell he loves you, but so much bigger than that. He knows he's found a precious thing in you, and he is more than ready to say that word "forever," even though we all know there is no such thing. Standing where I am, I see you blushing. Even your ears have turned red. There is a rushing in you, too, that begs to meet his rushing. When you're al...

I'm an author. It's official. It's not a best-seller. I published one book — literally one book. Call it a limited run. It's definitely a limited edition copy. The person who now owns the book is the one named in the title. And, yes, that's a picture of the book cover (minus my name). There is another book by this title out there. I'd like to say they stole the title from me, but I fear it's the other way around. I started working on the book in July, finished it, and sent the pdfs to the printer, which shipped me the book in August. I planned to send it to the girl on her birthday, and thankfully that worked out. Needless to say, it was hard to hold onto it for such a long time. And, after it was clear our relationship was over a long time ago, I still wanted her to have it. Now it functions as a memorial of what we had. Or, at least, what I had, and still have in my heart for her. No, I wasn't trying to win her back. I wasn't trying to do anyt...

  Chasing Amy. Looking for Alaska. 500 Days of Summer. The Great Gatsby.  I have my own lost love story. It's compelling. It's beautiful. It's haunting.  I still chase her with my mind. I still feel her with my heart. She was the most beautiful thing I ever held in my hands. She was always there. Until she wasn't. I've searched for her ever since. I never knew a woman could make me feel the things she did. I never knew I'd be so impossibly ruined by her — ruined for anything else. I knew she was never truly mine, but just the thought of having her made me impossibly happy. A love like that is a gift. A woman like her is a jewel. The time we had together was a dream. And the memories of her sustain me.  There is no perfect human being, but she was perfect to me. She made me see the world differently. She let me believe something as precious as her could be had by a man like me. Oh, what I would give for just one more day with her. Just to hear her voic...