PERSONAL : DEAR HEART OF MINE

Dear Heart

What the hell is wrong with you? Are you out of your mind? Do you even know what you’ve put me through for more than a decade? Blind, deaf, dumb, stupid, weak, impulsive, reckless and completely bonkers- that’s what you are!

Look around you, come on, don’t shy away now. Look at the mess you’ve created. Go north- right up till the brain. See there? Not that, you fool, that’s my nose, a little more up. Stop complaining about the upward climb, I’ve seen you jump right into my mouth whenever I take you to see a movies. Yeah, that perked you up now, didn’t it? Get back on track. Take a good look inside my head. Cluttered, isn’t it? Yeah, I should do something about…hey shut up, this isn’t my bedroom and you’re not my Mommy. Now look for my brain. It’s a little small, I know, but that ain’t my fault,  Go take it up with God or Science, whatever you’re leaning towards today. Ah…there it is, my little brain, hiding as usual from you. Heaven knows why I let you bully it. Okay so you’re stronger, but you’re also dumber and a closet coward, like all bullies. Oh don’t you even think about lying to me, I’ve lived with you all my life. I know how you’re scared of everything from lizards to heights to losing to stability to the lack of it. My vocal chords are testimony to your fake displays of courage. Every time I start yelling, I know that I’m really just trying to hide how scared you are.

You and the brain have this ongoing feud that’s lasted for more than a decade now. Look, guys, I can’t win with both of you playing tug of war. And hey Heart, pick on somebody your size, okay? They don’t call me Pea-brain for supporting vegans, you know.

You have to calm down, take a deep breath, and look at the bigger picture here. Yes, so you don’t go all bumpity-bump at every good looking thing anymore, thankfully. My mind thanks you for that. My sleep cycle is eternally grateful. For years you kept telling me (and yourself) that you’re just unnaturally detached.  And then, like a sick plot written by a cheesy author dying to get recognized, you attach yourself to the one thing you know is way out of your league. That’s neither wise nor prudent, mister.

But you’re kind of used to that, aren’t you? The surge of love you feel for the ones that play hard-to-get and the bouts of hatred as soon as they are ready to be gotten (pardon the grammar, but I don’t get paid for writing letters to you).

Anyway, the point of writing to you today is to not complain over pieces of you I scattered to the undeserving. The point is to tell you that there is going to be a change of residence for you (metaphorically so, of course).

Yes, dear Heart, I am handing you over to someone who I think may be more deserving of you than anyone I’ve ever met. Of course, you know who she is. And of course, she doesn’t know that she is going to get you. So we’ll have to be real discreet about this, okay? What? You can’t expect me to just go up to her and tell her that I stay up nights writing about her! Cmon! Who even does that anymore? And before you say it, no, I’m not scared of rejection. I just think I should be sure before I let her know. Because what if I want you back and she gets too attached to you? Gotta cover all bases, sport.

I know you don’t agree with my methods and that I’m listening to my brain for once. So I’m going to give you reasons why I think one-sided love is a great concept:

You can change your mind without anyone getting hurt in the process.
No expectations and thus, no accusations and so, no arguments.
Butterflies in the tummy that make you feel oh-so-good soon as you see them or receive a message from them.
 You can like them without having to spend an inexcusable amount of time with them on a daily/weekly basis.
  You can dream about how wonderful being with them would be, if it were ever to come true.

Dear Heart, I know I’ve put you through a lot of hard knocks over the years because of bad judgment. But believe me when I say that “she” is the One. Because whether I can be with her or not is just not important anymore. For the first time, I like someone enough to not want to be with them, lest it ruins everything.

She probably knows. And if she doesn’t want to do anything about it, well, we’ll just keep right on searching. There’s always space for more disappointment.