One

When I look back at things I’ve written, I tend to notice hidden words behind or between other words. When I said -I’ve never hated someone so much- I really should have just written love instead of hate. It is always this way. I say I'm getting better and I'm getting over it, and while I may be, I cannot quite will myself to enjoy the letting go. Is it so bad to want you around forever, even when you are moody and mean? Is it wrong to want to forget what happened and forgive you a million times over? Because I would, even when I know I should not. I understand I am discovering nothing new or profound, just reckoning with my own weakness. It is a hiding game and I doubt I will ever come out to be found.

Am I lovesick (yes, don’t believe me) or maybe boy crazy or maybe something else? My heart longs for so many, so I must be some foolish lost-love girl. In all situations, though, my mind is made up for me, even when my mind so vehemently fights back. Inevitably, though, my mind must be the winner. My heart, which so fully loves and accepts and desires, is, more often than not, trumped by the harsh and biting words of my mind and while my heart may go on loving, it simply writes ill-placed poems of its love instead of long, lavishing, sweetly languorous odes to its beloved.

Let’s consider the current case in hand. A name has been popping up in my inbox with great frequency recently. Many times it is simply in the subject line and the content of the message has nothing to do with the person I am thinking of, but nevertheless, my heart remembers my admiration for the one who bares the name and beats as if it may close in upon itself. The great misfortune, though, is that this heart versus mind battle has already been fought and won (rather courageously) by my mind’s sharp and poisonous tongue.


I wonder: Will my heart ever be strong enough to win?




Done with sappy.
Or maybe not.