It always hits me like a thief in the night. I never know when and I never know how it starts. It just happens. My heart suddenly lurches and I feel like a cold vise was wrenching it tight. I feel like curling up and I feel the tears coming.
Sometimes I tell myself that I don’t that I really like feeling this but the truth is that I do. When I feel like this I am reminded that I’m alive. In a perverse way it makes me feel like I have a heart; albeit, my heart is breaking but at least I know for sure its there. Its beating and its telling me that the one man I have been waiting for, who will hold me tight at night and will smile that sweet smile at me in morning when he wakes up beside me in the morning, has not yet come.
It reminds me that I am just going through the paces. I am struggling for God-knows-what, just like the rest of the world, knowing full well that behind it all I am living with an empty heart. I am not sure too that he can feel the void, which is funny. Maybe God can fill this void, just like my mother said, but I don’t know yet. Maybe if I finally find him and I realize that I still have an empty heart, maybe then God is truly the answer (my mother is so going to kill me if she reads this).
Where are you? Don’t you hear my heart’s grinding, jarring, death? Will you take it and breathe new life into it or will you ignore me? I’ve been waiting for you. I wait because I know that no matter what I do, my heart will never settle for any substitute.
I’m probably just deluding myself. Maybe I can find somebody and grow to love him too, but I don’t know that, really. My rational brain would not believe that out of the billion people in the world you are not out there, waiting for me; waiting like me. Waiting and slowly walking towards each other until we finally meet and you will call me; and I will answer. So, it’s you.
PS
Of course you can always say, oh it’s you, and then you turn and never look back. But then that’s fine, I probably don’t like you that much either.
