my careless contagion

Thank you, Lord, for these moments with her. Holding her hand in the theater and fighting back tears of happiness because this is what I always wanted. Here she was, and sitting next to me as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Thank you for letting me see her heart and to understand, at least in part, such a beautiful soul — a special soul that knows no equal. I get to hear what's in her heart, her mind, and to see your imprint on her. It's all over her, in, and through her.  Thank you for letting me be something in her life. Just to be here is a miracle for which I am beyond grateful. She makes me incredibly happy, and I can't help but see her as a gift. I get to enjoy her, feel her warmth radiating next to me, revel in the scent of her skin, and bask in her laughter. And what beautiful laughter! I'm in love with the sound of her voice. I don't think there's a single thing about her I haven't fallen in love with. The sum total of her is probably more...

Thinking about this space where I spent so much time and expended so much mental and emotional energy, I can't help but liken it to something. I wrote an awful lot about a girl here. I was quite taken with her. I fell in love with her, and that love burst forth on these pages, year after year. I am still in love with her, though I know her differently now.  I wrote, not knowing whether she ever saw a word. I believed she did, and that's why I continued to write for so many years. This was my message in a bottle.  With a message in a bottle, we're never sure if it reaches its intended destination, if the one person in the world we want to read it actually does. I never knew. Did she ever feel those things I felt for her? Did she know how much I truly loved her? Did she read once or a hundred times or not at all? Did it make any difference what I said or didn't say? The hours I spent crafting my words, did it change anything? Did it make her bad days more tolerable? Were ...

My friends, if you have time and the inclination, will you pray with me? My dear friend is in a dreadful spot. She needs a way out. She needs a door to open. My friends, she is stuck and hurting. Pray with me, if you will.  Heavenly Father, we lift up to you my friend Cindy. Lord, she is hurting. She despairs of life. Many unfair circumstances persist in her life. And she is unable to move forward, though she desperately wants to. She is laden with heavy burdens too heavy to bear. Lord, you know Cindy, and you know she is kind, one of the kindest of your creation. She is a special woman, and we ask that you show her your special plan for the rest of her life. We lift her up to you in prayer and supplication. We ask that you station your angels around her and her family to always protect them from the attacks of the enemy. We also know she is very hard on herself. Remind her you can do so much with a broken vessel, perhaps more than one that is whole. Pour your love into her and let...

Another milestone for this blog! I've reached 400 posts in a little over two years. That equals a post every 2-3 days. That's a lot of writing, which equals a lot of therapy. Thank you for following along! I'm tired of talking about myself. I'm tired in general. Perhaps the bulk of the work is done. Through this reflective writing therapy, considerable insight was gained. Putting my thoughts and feelings here was valuable.  When this blog began, I had no idea where it would take me. I wrote because I didn't have anyone with whom to share my thoughts and feelings. I needed an outlet at a very ugly time in my life. My divorce was the catalyst for this blog, though many things have been discussed since then. I've gone through just about every emotion and have somehow survived, though I am changed. I am a decidedly different human being than when I entered the portal of pain called divorce. As for the dissolution of my marriage, perhaps the best way to sum ...

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 ...

This is the end of the road for me. Okay, not really. But, there are some themes I want to put away, as I feel I've gotten tremendous closure for things that have haunted me for eons. Coming back to this place at this point in time has given me tremendous insight into my childhood and the years after. I've seen myself through my son's eyes. I've seen my parents through new eyes. Hell, I've seen the world with new eyes. I've gotten the rare gift of a second chance at life. When I leave here, I know I'll take my biggest problem with me, but I've had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to truly sit down, converse with, and understand myself. I walk away from here more at peace than I've been in years.  There are things I will no longer write about because I've done a tremendous amount of work to understand and clean up those messes. I'm glad to be done with them. There will still be trickles of these themes from time to time, I'm sure, ...

Everything okay? If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide,  the Lifeline is here to help: call 1–800–273–8255 If you are experiencing any other type of crisis, consider chatting confidentially with a volunteer trained in crisis intervention at www.imalive.org ,  or anonymously with a trained active listener from 7 Cups of Tea . And, if you could use some inspiration and comfort in your dashboard,  you should consider following the Lifeline on Tumblr . View search results   This is the message I got from Tumblr this morning when I searched for "pain." Thank you, Tumblr, for your concern. This is how much humanity is in Tumblr compared to other social media platforms. Where the goal in a lot of platforms is to make you feel rotten (the same for a lot of advertising), Tumblr wants to make sure you're okay   People who feel rotten look for ways to feel better. Our society loves when people feel rotten, as it can m...

I was a boy and she was becoming a woman. She was a couple of years older (I'm guessing)  than me. Our conversation has stayed with me for 30 years. The scene was the Cosmo (short for cosmopolitans) swim team picnic, which signaled the end of the season and the last time I'd see these people until school began again. I don't recall my exact age, but it was 10, 11, or 12. Her name was Nicole, and her words still echo in my soul. I was busy running around, having fun, eating candy and being a boy. She grabbed me (literally) and took me aside. She said she knew I didn't want to hear it right now, but someday I would need to know this. She told me to be kind to girls' hearts, to not be like the other boys; don't play games with girls because that's how people get hurt. Here was a barely-a-woman telling this I-just-want-to-be-a-boy- forever how to be a man. I should have heard this from my brothers, should have seen it in my father, anyone but her. But I liste...

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 ...

Maybe she will, maybe she won't. Maybe this is it. Maybe it's already gone. What I wanted and what I needed were two different things. Who's to tell me that tomorrow will be any different?  When she looks in on me, I'm sure what she sees alarms her, pricks her heart, dismays her, and shakes her. There's a whole lot of bleeding going on in here, girl. You may need your goggles on. You may need to hold your breath and pinch your nose. There are wounds here being sutured tight, but in the dimness of the light, you can see my face gone blank, gone white, just ... gone.  Do you know how long I've been like this? When you knew me as a boy, I was already so damaged, defeated, destitute. I wonder if your heart saw my pain, took pity, and decided to love me. I wonder if you ever knew how much I would love you.  No one was ever meant to see and hear these words. But, I've let you see them all. I've invited you right in. Does it make you feel luc...

That Saturday morning when the hammer came down I begged her not to do it I said she shouldn't see me if she had those things to say I held her hand and prayed but I could feel she was a thousand miles away When she told me  what was in her heart I could not blame her neither could I look her in the eyes The tears fell on my hands my useless, stupid hands I knew it was coming but I was paralyzed I watched her as she dressed and she became even prettier right before my eyes I can see her there in the bathroom mirror in that beautiful dress We decided we couldn't see each other anymore as we parted the hot, humid air as we sat near each other but so far apart She had to go though it seemed early I knew she was already so far away As I held her one last time her body convulsed as it was her turn to cry and then her turn to leave I can't forget her beautiful smile her perfect face ...

Thank you, sweet girl because you've led me into this world where I see things I could never have seen otherwise Thank you for taking my hand and leading me here I will be forever grateful The colors are different the sky brighter in the day darker and colder at night My hands perspire when I watch movies and see scenes I've seen before but I see them for the first time And I know you are with me for you have touched me deeply irrevocably, eternally And the tears stream down my face because I've witnessed a miracle in me.