my careless contagion

I wrote the main section a while ago. Tacked some thoughts on the end recently. *** My dearest. For someone who is not in my life — and hasn't been — I think about her far too much and far too often.  For a man used to running from women, how did I end up like this? How did one little girl suspend my aged logic? How did one girl manage to turn everything upside down?  S he tamed me.  I was wild. I was free. But she made me hers.  I don't think she understands how suddenly nervous I become when I am near her, how awfully dry my mouth gets, how my brain freezes and I become dumb, the words won't come, my hands start shaking, and I become strangely and uncontrollably emotional, like tearing up talking about any stupid thing. I wonder what is wrong with me, why I am so off. This isn't me! Who is this idiot? What makes a man like this? What tears through his bravado so easily, rendering him naked? To stand in front of the woman you love with a naked heart is something rar...

I believe Cindy told me (if I am wrong, let her correct me, but I don't think she reads here anymore) she believes being with me would be a sin, which I contest, of course. I think that is legalistic garbage, but how can I argue with someone who says such a thing? What is important to them is what they believe, not what I believe. So, I write the following with the vestiges of her still in my heart but with the extremely sad realization she cannot allow herself to be with me. You know, I read a lot of classic literature, and it all seems to have the element of a sad love story, but none of it compares to the sadness of this. This was indeed written about a certain woman. I can't ask that woman to sin against her conscience in order to be with me, though. That would be unkind and wrong, and I never want to be unkind to such a lovely creature. All I know is she wants absolutely nothing to do with me, regardless of the reason. I heard every excuse imaginable and some I never imagi...

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...

I visited McCook, Neb., again Feb. 5 and 6 (no, I didn't take these photos). This post contains thoughts about my time living and going to school here more than two decades ago, probably reconstituted from previous visits, but I felt something was left buried here, like the reason why my life went a completely different direction from what was anticipated. Also, I really wanted a bath so got a hotel room with a bathtub. I needed some time away and knew if I stayed close to home, I would end up at work (and the point was to get away). Anyway, what happened? Well, for one thing, I saw Cindy for a bit. More later. Also, this is a long post. Sorry.  Why McCook again? Am I obsessed? Vaguely. I actually dream about this place: the streets, houses, smells, feelings, and what I did. We often dream about unresolved things. Maybe it is about my education. Maybe about a girl. Maybe about youth wasted. Maybe all of it. Driving the streets and highways I used to drive brought back one overridin...

My divorce was finalized Feb. 8, 2018, about two months after it was supposed to be finalized, but things always take longer in this town. I recall the day. It was cold, of course. I handed her a packet of papers that said it was all over, but it was over before that. As it was said about F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife, Zelda, we leaned on each other and both fell down.  I probably blamed my ex for too much. She is actually one of the finer people I've known, but with problems that impacted us negatively. I could talk about her good qualities at length, but this blog's purpose was to help me move on. Anyway, people do what they do for good reasons, and regardless of the consequences. It was my fault for accepting the situation and for so long. I should have walked away earlier, but that is easier said than done when you care about someone. I didn't dwell much on her psychology or try to explain why she did what she did, but her past is similar to mine, and those childhood...

  I should have known when I liked Hey Jealousy by the Gin Blossoms in high school it had a wickedly sad backstory. You can read some of that here , if you'd like (it involves alcoholism, just as the term gin blossoms also refers to alcoholism, oh, and suicide). Instead of delving into that, like I did a few years ago, let's just post the lyrics and say something like, "This is how I feel about a particular girl and the intervening years wasted without her." There, long post is now short. And then here are the lyrics. (Yeah, this is another unscheduled post. Can't plan everything, right?) Permit me a moment of nostalgia. I don't do this often (ha). But wasn't the music in the 90s a lot richer and varied? Maybe I just had a lot more time on my hands. The music industry, though never perfect, seemed a lot healthier then. But that was before Napster and all of that. Still, the 2000s (or, if you prefer, aughts) was like a polar opposite with the packaged bubbl...