To find my heart
I wanted to cradle your heart in my hands, to keep it safe from all the pain. I wanted to whisper to it every night how much I loved it before I closed my eyes. I gave you mine and made you sign the 500 page contract so it would not be broken, again. When you gave yours to me, I warned you I would never give it back. Your heart was my source of joy and light, the hope that pushed me forward through this complex life.
Somewhere between “I love you more” and “I’m sorry” too focused on your heart, I realized you didn’t have mine anymore. You had forgotten it in a taxi or on the table in a coffee shop. When I asked you where it was, you told me not to worry, you had misplaced it but you would find it again.
“Page number nine of the contract clearly outlined taking care of my heart, when in a public space!” But when I looked more closely, there was no contrition on your face.
Weeks went by and finally I lost all arguments with myself, admitting that you lost my heart forever. I’d have to search for it on my own. But you felt empty without one, so you asked me to give you back your heart. “I’m sorry” you said “my heart was not meant for you, but maybe when you find yours, you’ll find someone to give it to”
My universe shifted that day and in the weeks that passed, I would return to that moment in search of hope in your unspoken words. I would play back all of our memories to find the turning point that sent us in different directions. I haven’t found it yet, but, I don’t care. I’ve got to find my heart and when I do, I’ll lock it up tight, in darkness far from light.
I wanted to cradle your heart in my hands, to keep it safe from all the pain.
But in the end I lost my own and I must find it once again.