my careless contagion

The phrase "on a Tuesday," to me, denotes something happening on an ordinary day. Does anything extraordinary happen on a Tuesday? Tuesdays used to be the worst at my old job. If anything bad was going to happen, it would be on a Tuesday. But something wonderful and unexpected happened the first Tuesday in August.  Tuesday was the day Cindy drove by while I was working in her neighborhood and stopped to say hello. I saw her smile and was already in a daze. The whole conversation lasted less than two minutes, but I walked away feeling like a different man. I no longer cared that I was swamped by work, was running out of energy, and was hot and thirsty.  I sent her a text that simply said, "I miss you" the day before. She said she missed me too and thought of me often. She said she couldn't move forward with me at the moment (I know, it was the one downer of the conversation) and I didn't have to wait. How much time did I have to rebut that? When the girl of y...

I remember the exact moment she came back into my life. It was December three years ago. I remember where I sat and the smile that spread across my face. I remember the warmth that suddenly coursed through me even though my body was trembling with cold.  I loved that girl with such beautiful hues — words dipped in aching, gasping, glorious color and spread across the widest canvas. Perhaps I got too involved, but love is an involving emotion. In all of my heart-pounding feelings, did I betray myself and create a love that didn't exist? I lost her an unspeakable number of times. I lost her every moment of every day and every night with every heartbeat after she left. Every day and week and month that went by and she was silent, that loss penetrated deeper in my bones. Still now, she is lost. Love is perfect, though sometimes imperfectly found. And, boy, did I love that girl. If I could do it again, I would, and a thousand times. If I had a thousand lives, I'd li...

Perfect by Ed Sheeran is a romantic fairytale of a song. It is beautiful. It is lyrical perfection. I imagine this song has been played thousands of times at weddings and high school dances across the world (and not just because it's a waltz). And the video — which has over 2 billion views, well — there's even a kitten in it!  I hesitate to use the word "perfect" because there is no such thing as perfection in this world. But I've used that word to describe the woman I love. I don't know if love simply blinds us to imperfections or what, but some people really do seem perfect.  During my recent visit to Nebraska, I got to hang out with the woman I am head over heels in love with. The last day, she told me I should see her as she really is without any makeup, with her hair up, and in her jammies. What did she expect me to see? I still saw the beautiful woman I'm in love with. Nothing changed for me. I'd love to wake up next to that every day. Tr...

Sunday, May 21, 2017, I was driving my pickup back from seeing the woman of my dreams. We had shared a very quick and very perfect 24 hours together. It was just us. Nothing else. And I think it surprised both of us by how good it was. We didn't do anything special. We went out to eat. We went to the high school track and walked around it a few times, talking. We reminisced. We kissed. It felt completely natural and relaxed.  On May 27, 2017, she started pushing back. It was such a short time period between those two events. One must have caused the other. What looked like rejection and betrayal to me was something else, something I don't have room to go into here. Clearly, what happened hurt, but it's all gone now, washed under the bridge. I've decided to rename my feelings and change my perspective, which has been extremely helpful and healing.  So, whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. Life goes on and we have to, too. While my conscience is clear and ...

I've had to do a thousand hard things in my life. By far, the hardest has been letting you go. Something ancient and new and lovely and perfect in me found something ancient and new and lovely and perfect in you. Letting you go meant leaving those things behind because they got lost in you somewhere, and I couldn't go back to find them. So today, walking away, I'm far less new, far less lovely, and so far from perfect. Tomorrow will surely find me the same. Trying to trace the steps of our last dance, our last time together, and our last conversations yields no clues. I'll never know what happened. All I know is I got so desperate and so scared because you knew what you knew and then I was no longer in the know. I was on the outside looking in like I've always been. While I spent time with you, looked as deeply as I could into your eyes, and almost made my home in you, I still didn't know you. I saw a sliver of your beauty, and I was awestruck. Then you we...

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...

  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....

I printed a picture of us that was taken almost a year and a half ago. Pretty soon it will be two years since we reconnected and started talking. Time flies when you're madly in love with someone. I'll put the picture somewhere. Maybe by my bed, maybe by my desk. I just want to remember you and that day with you that was so perfect. If only I'd made you mine when I could have, we would have had so many perfect days together.  I always thought she was special, and I always thought highly of her. She's made of something different. Other women simply don't compare. She's a rare thing, a thing of beauty. Every single day I count myself blessed she made a meteor strike in my heart, a great cavern in my chest. When she tore into me, I knew I'd never be the same. And I never want to go back to what I was like before. I've seen true beauty, and I cannot forget it. I felt things for her I never thought I'd feel. I saw things in her I never ...

There's something wrong in all of this, something I cannot figure out. Something is turning me away from walking down that dark corridor and into a greater understanding. It's not a matter of who is to blame. It's just a matter of knowing the truth, whether it's ugly or not. I've never shied away from knowing the truth; it's been the only thing I've ever cared about. It's my vocation; everything else is just a job. That girl is a puzzle. There's something impossible about her. What drove me so far away from her? What led me back? I thought she would be mine; I thought she rejected me. What on earth happened all those years ago? Is there any way to know? Is there anything I can do short of falling on my face and pleading to the Almighty for answers? All I hear is, "The past is the past."  Then it happened again. The same thing. I was drawn back to that place, to that same puzzled hurt. When I look in the mirror, it's clea...