A year ago my life changed. I realized i wasn't living the life i thought i was. Or better said...the life i thought i wanted. I was living a dream i hadn't yet thought of, one i threw myself into, whole heartedly, with reckless abandon. Some call this brave, others call it foolish. I don't call it. I live it, over and over again. The thing about our heart is, sometimes it is so large that it bears two faces. I wanted without wanting. I love wanting. I love the way it makes me feel. But you have to love the want as much as the wanting or the former drops off. And the death of it, just as tragic as the loss of the latter.
People misuse the term: heart. We're told to follow it. We're told it holds the secrets and the truth. But it doesn't. Or maybe it does. Where does your truth lie?
I propose to invent another heart. A heart that isn't swayed by the smell of a lover or the touch of skin. A heart that listens to what is instead of what could be. A heart that beats, as unromantic as it may seem, for you and you alone. That other one lies. And the lies aren't bad. They're intoxicating. They're lovely. But i yearn for the organ that leaves me full instead of slack. I yearn for the one that speaks the truth. But even the word 'truth' seems so clinical, so stern. So i'll call it my Hearth. yes. I'll listen to my Hearth. For the truth can be abrasive, and the heart a down right fibber, but the hearth...now that's where my instinct lies.