my careless contagion

Yes, I said it before. And, yes, I’ll say it again. My heart is fixed. My mind is sure. She is the one I love. There is no shame in loving a woman. Perhaps by stating so often how I feel I seek to erase the years she was neglected and misused, traumatized and abused. Whatever she’s doing now and whomever she’s with, I hope she knows how much this (admittedly pathetic) man loves her. But does she love me? Who knows what secrets her heart keeps?  When someone we care about greatly is absent from our lives, we sometimes go through wild theatrics to bring them back to us in small ways. It may be a dream – the unconscious speaking for us – or it may be a thousand thoughts in a thousand ways directed their way. For me, it was those and more. I sought her in everyone I met. What I sought lived only behind her green eyes, not someone else’s. But, a starving man has heightened senses. In the lack of her, I found pieces of her around me. I became rich in her, if only in my mind.  At the...

Adapted from a previously unpublished post. Written a while back and edited. I know who is in my heart. I realize this is a tired thread. That's why I surrendered it to God. I will say this. When I spend time with the girl I love, my thoughts and words are different. I am typically logical, methodical, and mechanical. With her, my thoughts and words are like fireworks, all over the place. She touches parts of me I didn’t even know existed, and they come alive just by her touch. There are multiple things about this post I dislike. It’s frustrating because it has some merit, too. What seems to bother me most is examining a scenario I greatly detest, which is being with someone I am not currently in love with. Actually, it turns my stomach. Now  I’m sure you can’t wait to read it. So, here is a very imperfect post about love and marriage (which go together like a horse and carriage, I’m told). I have two more posts after this but felt this one should get out of the way first, since I ...

Someday, to someone, who is out there somewhere, I will say these words. Not these exact words, and maybe not even said out loud, but, at the very least, it will be communicated by an important part of my being — my heart.  I pledge to protect you, provide for us, give you my name, my honor, my heart, my being. Every part of every fiber of me down to my very DNA. I don't seek to make you mine. I seek to give you everything that is mine, from the mundane to the noble. My hopes. My dreams. They cover you. They cover us.  You are safe. You carry my name. But, more importantly, my prayers blanket you. The language of the love a man has for a woman has been slighted, slaughtered, and lost. But I speak that language to you every day in a thousand ways, and often without words. I'm not special. But I speak the ancient language of a man who loves a woman.  You were gifted to me by Unseen Hands. I accepted you and the tacit agreement to always love and cherish. The world has forgo...

I saw someone — fleetingly — who reminded me of her. This is what I have to look forward to, these little snippets of memory as long as I breathe, surprising me from time to time. My feelings for her remain, and the questions remain, too. There were times I wished I could ghost myself into her somehow, to live among her thoughts and feel her heartbeat, to soak up the rhythm and rhyme of such a beautiful creature, to truly understand who she is and why she is what she is. Yes, I want to be like her. No, I don't want to change my gender, but we often desire to be like those we love, emulating them to ridiculous degrees. Psychologists call it mirroring or bonding or whatever label they feel like attaching. But it's just wonderment, sometimes awe, because we found someone really special, and we want to be special like them. We fall far short of being like them, of course, but that does not stop us from trying. Little does she know I already took things she said or did to heart, fo...

Maybe it's just an American thing. I don't know. But, the wishbone of a bird (say, a Thanksgiving turkey) is a symbol of luck. Two people pull on the wishbone after making a wish, and when it breaks, the person holding the larger part of the bone gets their wish (and that's also where we get the term "lucky break"). It seems like a silly superstition. I remember doing it as a kid. There are actually a lot of superstitions surrounding the wishbone if you care to do a little research. But for many years, it only meant one thing to me.  My ex. She wore a wishbone necklace. It's supposed to be good luck. She did get a lot of compliments on it. And her curly hair. She also wore cranberry essential oil each day for many years. Besides those things, she was pretty much a disaster. She wasn't a good luck charm for me. But I did consider her my best friend for many years. I think losing a friend was about the hardest part of my divorce. Let's face it; I...

James Bay's Wild Love , featuring a blonde Natalia Dyer (and an unholy number of purple butterflies), was originally a song I steered away from. I like the song, actually, but I wasn't able to agree with the sentiment because I was going through a tumbler of heartache and change. Lately, I've started to see the light at the end of the tunnel (and I hope it's not an oncoming train). Could I be close to being ready to love again?  Let me say that I'm not in a relationship right now. I'm in love with a woman, but I'm not in a relationship. I'm free to do as I please, which up until now has mostly consisted of avoiding life. I know I'm not ready for a relationship, but I see daylight, and it's nearly time to get up out of this slumber and face a new day. At least I get that feeling more often these days. The truth is, I may never be ready to move on, but there's something in me that says I have to at least try.  I have taken a few moments ...

When I touch you, what does it mean to you? I may never know, as you are a mystery to me. A beautiful mystery, and you hide so much in your heart. Can I tell you what it would mean to me to touch you, to be with you, to make love to you someday?  It would be unlike anything I've had before, for you are unlike anyone I've ever known. I could tell you I'd be loyal and kind and tender and gentle and loving, but you already know that.  My love, I'd hold you like you fell from the stars. My fingers would speak for me, and my heart would be in my hands. Every caress would be an affirmation and a revolution.  I won't ever hurt you like he did. I know you can't believe that now. You'll never have to wonder where my heart is or what I'm thinking about when I'm with you. It will always be you. Even if I never have you and reluctantly have to let you go, it will always be you.  Laying with you would be a dream come true. Holding you would be incompr...