my careless contagion

    I grew up in small towns. I still live in a small town. In a small town, when a pretty young thing smiles at you and says hi, it doesn't mean anything. You just say hi back and go on with your day. You know it's just the way things are in a small town. If I was anyone else, they'd say hi just the same. This could be a clue as to why I was always pretty dense about girls and women (yes, some Mrs. Robinsons) who were into me. There are different levels of affection, of course, but I didn't want to explore them too deeply. Some girls wanted one thing, and some probably didn't even know they were giving off signals (I think they call those micro-expressions). The ones, however, who wouldn't take no for an answer were clearly not just saying hi. When I was in grade school, there were always crushes. It was one girl or another. And some of these girls meant business. They'd chase me until I couldn't breathe anymore on the playground, then th...

She's seared in my mind like a brilliant sunrise, like the end of the world, like the sadness of leaving and the miracle of birth all in one brief moment. She stood before me in nothing but her black bra and underwear. I couldn't believe the creature that stood before that mirror with me. I stood behind her and told her she was beautiful. She said it was dark. I thought to myself, "Girl, you're not only perfect, but perfect should try to be you."  Her skin and her warmth are fresh in my memory. And she could lounge in her underwear with me all day, any day, any time, anywhere. My body may burn for her, but it would be worth it. If I couldn't lay a hand on her, I'd make love to her with my eyes and with my words. Maybe she'd melt for me like I melt for her.  I can't recall feeling such adoration for any woman, real or imagined. How can she cut down all of my childhood fantasies and all of my models of perfection? How can she destroy e...

Thinking about making love to anyone but her is terrifying. She's the only thing that makes sense; she's the only one I want.  Thinking about having sex with her is like running out of air in five seconds and clawing for the surface of the water so I can breathe again. Everything goes black; everything short circuits. Just imagining being in the same room with her makes my whole body burn. Imagining being with her with her clothes off makes my head spin. Imaging sex with her ... isn't possible. I'll tear down the mountains and burn down the skies. I'll set fire to every household between us. I'll shake the stars from the dark night, take the sun and set it free from its path. There is such intensity running through me, I break, I sputter, I curse and I mutter. But there is nothing to be done. I am simply spinning my wheels, wishing for something that I cannot have. I'm beginning to wonder if I've simply lost my grip on reality. I'm in lov...

My parents in 1984 surveying the house they were having built. I have this memory, but not because I actually remember it. I was too young to remember it, but the story was retold often enough by my mother that it seems like I actually have the memory.  I was very young. It was the mid-1980s. My parents had a house built (which went wildly over budget) in 1984 on Happy Hollow Street in a little town in the Southern Black Hills in South Dakota. Parents raised their kids a little differently then than they do now. There was also the matter of finances, which meant that a babysitter wasn't always possible. My parents had a colleague leave their company and start up a competing business across the street. In order to compete, they were putting in 100 hour weeks, both of them. This continued for years.  My mom didn't want to work, but my dad was the boss and women were working a lot in those days, so he said she should too. She started out as the bookkeeper, setting ty...

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...

It's okay to fall to pieces or to spend so much time and so much energy trying to hold yourself together It's okay to walk away sometimes and to just be alone to hide your face from people and from God himself It's okay to cry out in the night to sob uncontrollably and to wonder if anyone can hear you It's okay to let yourself down because you're trying so hard not to let those around you down because someone has to be strong It's okay to crumble at the end of the day and wish you weren't here at all because the pain sometimes takes your breath away It's okay to want your bed because that's the only place you can think of her without terror running through you It's okay to imagine her there next to you, so quiet so warm, so tender before the moment is gone again It's okay to pick up the pieces how you see fit, when you see fit and to realize some of those pieces ...