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By willtobe1 Date: 2006 Sep 28 Comment on this Work [[2006.09.28.10.07.16559]] |
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Far be it from me to be an apologist for cads who cull only the sweet morning dew of relationships, but could it be that this short dude (could it be the one from "The Year of the Shark," perchance???), had found his heart gone and just wanted to blunt your hurt about it? For I have decided (not so much from what I've done unto others but from percieved slights received) that the heart is a viscera unto itself, answerable only to its own Constitution without reference to the other governing bodies of Gut and Head, and with Written Opinions on decisions made not forthcoming. A big part of the pain of separation is the inevitable question of, "Why?...What's wrong with me?!?!" But if you had asked your heart at the outset, "Why?...What's right with him?!?!?" you probably would have gotten no better answers than you are getting now. With so few appreciable differences between the multitudinous throngs of possible lovers, the questions to these answers are very much in the nature of a prayer. But I wonder at and deeply honor the balance with which you have responded to this disappointment. To keep your heart out there, albeit warily, indicates healing by secondary intention with the minimal risk of scar tissue formation, and a good prognosis for fully preserved cardiac function. I hope your heart can heed your words in a sustained fashion, and thus "say the pain away." For what it's worth, there were many years of sagebrush wasteland before I "won" my lotto so long ago. I remember the New Years before it happened as being filled with a terrible sense hopelessness. Of course, winning the lotto has it's own challenges as I'm finding now: how to spend it wisely, how not to run out of funs[sic], etc, etc... Oh, and This is the line...O this is, this is the line: "I still believe that we are not meant to yearn for that which we are not meant to have. It's the yearning, I am sure, that draws it near." If this has not been taken directly from Richard Bach's "Illusions," then you should read that. It is fat with philosophical Big Mac. And one last thing: I left a girl for the lotto I won all those years ago. And I spent most of that night crying on the paper Piñata of her heart. I didn't want her to hurt, but I didn't want me to hurt, either. The tears didn't do her much if any good, I'm sure, but staying would have done me none. Where romance is concerned, the hard truth is that the heart does not allow pain deductions for charitable donations... |