The love I crave seems beyond horizon, always out of my reach

By David McElroy · July 2, 2019

I miss her.

I don’t want to miss her. I don’t want to think about her. I don‘t want to talk about her. I just want the hole in my heart to be filled. I want something else — someone else, another love, another desire, anything positive — to fill empty place in my heart.

But there’s a steady drumbeat inside every part of me. It’s as regular as my own heartbeat. It’s a constant companion. No matter what I do, it reminds me.

I miss her.

She’s the sun beyond the horizon at sunset, casting a powerful and colorful glow on every part of my world — but completely out of my view, completely out of my reach. She’s as close as the warmth of sun on my skin, but as far away — and as mysterious and fleeting — as the changing colors of the reflected sunlight. She’s so near, but so far.

I miss her.

I try to intellectualize what I feel. I try to be logical. I try to talk my heart out of feeling anything. But my brain can’t talk my heart into obeying. Even when I stifle my feelings and control my thoughts, putting her aside is as foreign as it might be to force myself to stop breathing.

With every breath, with every heartbeat, with every step I take, there’s another reminder.

I miss her.

There’s the compulsion to call her again. There’s the longing to hear her voice again. There’s the longing to see her face, to touch her hand, to tell her she is loved, to hold her close.

It’s like being naked and vulnerable in public. It’s like feeling starvation for something to eat. It’s like needing the taste of clean water. It’s like a need that can’t be filled by anything else.

I miss her.

Everything about it makes me feel crazy. It makes me willing to cross deserts or slay dragons or destroy the armies of her enemies. It pushes primal buttons that have no specific relevance in modern life.

Men have always been driven to do great things — or crazy things — for the love of a woman. Helen of Troy had the face that launched a thousand ships. Men have killed others and fought wars and abandoned all they had built for themselves. Love makes men crazy.

I miss her.

I want to reach out beyond the horizon and touch her face. I want to speak of love and to hear her voice. I want to hear her tell me she loves me again. I want her to hear my voice. I want her to know all the things my heart longs to say.

I want all that I can’t have. It seems so close every day. I can see it just beyond my horizon. I expect the light to break through and shine on me again. But I can’t touch it. I can’t feel it.

There’s nothing for me to do. There’s nothing for me to say. But in the grips of a powerful love that won’t die and won’t go away — but won’t return and won’t stay — I keep falling into this dark and empty hole. Because she’s so close I can feel her spirit, but because she’s so far, I can’t touch her.

She’s so near, but so far.

My heart sighs and hurts. My brain runs like a locomotive out of control. My pulse pounds like a jackhammer, harder and faster. Again.

I miss her.

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If you have problems with high blood pressure, I’d like to encourage you to consider making serious changes to your diet. There might be some people who don’t have any choice but to start taking prescription medications for high blood pressure, but I’d like to tell you that I have completely eliminated my issue by eliminating all sugar and almost all carbohydrates. (A couple of months ago, my blood pressure hit 185/144, which was dangerously high — considered stage 3 hypertension.) By completely changing my eating habits, I’m down 22 pounds and my blood pressure is now in the “ideal” range — without taking any medication. In addition, I sleep better and I have more energy. Getting away from the sugar-laden mess that we generally refer to as “highly processed food” has been a life-changer for me. Now my challenge is to avoid slipping back into old habits — by eating in the dangerous ways that almost everyone in our society has come to see as normal.

When I first heard about this, I thought it must be satire. When I discovered it was real, I was appalled, but I still thought it must be a one-time thing from some nutty activist. But it turns out it’s the latest bit of pandering to a bunch of far-left activists who believe that a man can become a woman if he decides to claim he’s a woman. As everybody knows, men have prostate glands. Women do not. Period. End of story. Men can get prostate cancer. Women cannot. But political activists are so eager to pretend that a man claiming to be a “trans woman” is really a woman that they are insisting that “women” be included in public health messages about the issue. This is nothing but political virtue-signaling. If you’re a man, you know which parts you have. You know that you ought to be screened. Nobody is made any safer by dragging far-left gender ideology into simple medical reality.

Every time someone tries to tighten requirements around the use of absentee ballots, I hear screams from Democrats and others on the political left that such efforts are nothing but “suppression of black voters.” These protests have never made sense to me, especially because it’s never been a secret that absentee ballot fraud goes on all the time in certain areas. (Everybody knew it when I worked in politics.) The people who engage in such fraud are rarely caught — often because the local political establishment approves of the crime — but a Democrat who won a primary election in Clay County, Alabama, last year has pleaded guilty to this sort of cheating. Terry Andrew Heflin was running for a place on the Clay County Commission. He was caught ordering seven absentee ballots in the names of various voters and sending them to his post office box — after which he used the ballots to vote absentee for himself seven time. Did he have other people cast additional fraudulent ballots? We’ll never know. But in a primary in which he was able to win with only 141 votes, it wouldn’t take many fraudulent votes to change the election. The next time you hear “civil rights activists” claim that it’s just “voter suppression” to hurt blacks which is at the root of efforts to stop this fraud, remember Terry Heflin. If you care about fair and honest elections, ballot security and voter identity should matter to you.

A state legislator in Maine has been stripped of the ability to speak in the state Legislature — and her votes are not being counted on legislative issues — all because she made a truthful social media post. Rep. Laurel Libby (R-Auburn, Maine) opposes allowing boys to compete against girls’ teams in school athletics and she’s become known for making an issue of it. On Feb. 17, she posted on Facebook about a recent example that she found outrageous. She posted side-by-side photos of a boy named John who competed last year in a state track event and won fifth place against other boys two years ago — and a photo of the same boy (now called Katie) who won first place in the same event this year against girls. Whether you find this outrageous or not, Libby is clearly being honest and truthful about the objective facts of an issue of public importance. But the state Legislature censured her. Democrats decreed that she could not speak in the House and that her votes would not count on legislation — until she apologized for the outrage of telling the truth. She refused and her constituents have been unrepresented in the state House since then. The people who promote this ideology are out of touch with reality and won’t rest until they force the rest of us to join them in this delusion. But even if you agree with “trans” ideology, you should be appalled at this heavy-handed attack on political speech.

The late Steve Jobs was at the center of our culture’s transition from analog to digital. He co-founded Apple Computer. He led the team that revolutionized personal computing with the first Macintosh. As CEO of Apple, he led the development of the iPhone and later the iPad. You would think the children of such a man would be surrounded by technology. But Jobs and his wife Laureen didn’t let their children use iPads. Their home had few screens of any kind. Even though Jobs spent most of his time developing and selling Macs and iPhones and iPads, he was home with his wife and children for dinner when he was in town. The family ate together at a simple wooden table in their kitchen — and there were no digital devices or focus on popular culture. Instead, he’s said to have guided his family toward deep discussions of art, philosophy and education — with no iPads to be found. If the man who guided the development of such products chose a different path for his own children, does that suggest that his digital experience taught him that children need human connection, not screens? And does it suggest the possibility that we might be better off if we made the same choice for our families?

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