my careless contagion

I have to admit, stoicism has an allure for me. Too often, I've been overwhelmed, paralyzed, pummeled, and defeated by my emotions. But, just as often, I've told myself I don't care or that I shouldn't care. This pendulum swing is something I've struggled with most of my life. I've endured so much heartache, and acting like I didn't care only let the heartache continue. I was strong through so much pain. In the end, the pain overcame all the walls I built to keep it out. I don't consider myself an emotional person. Yes, I have emotions. As I've gotten older, the repressed stuff has gotten more vocal, so I've allowed myself to show my feelings more. I see it as a volcano letting off steam. Better to have a constant release of pressure than all at once. I can't repress my feelings forever, after all. Traditionally, though, that wasn't the case. As with many men, I was reared to be mostly emotionless. And I think that's wrong. ...

I have lost. I've lost her. I've lost many things. I don't know what else to say, but I'll probably say a bunch of stuff anyway.  The thought came crashing in on me one night: "All is lost." That thought has remained with me. I know that truly not all is lost. Still, of all the feelings that have coursed through my veins in the last year-plus, this one is preeminent. Here's the thing. I'm very practiced in letting go. My whole life I've had to let go of places, people, things, parts of myself, things precious, and things mundane. This world is ultimately temporary, and we with it.  It should not have surprised me that I had to let her — the woman of my dreams — go. It should not have surprised me that I took it so hard, either. Precious things are hard to let go. The last time I saw her, she felt she had to give her marriage another shot. I sat and prayed with her, but she seemed so far away. She had already pulled away. Before we met tha...