20 March 2016

63 – Show Your Heart

There’s simply nothing like love.

What else besides love makes you feel complete one minute and sends you to pieces the next? It gives you courage. It terrifies you. It makes you feel alive. It makes you feel like you’re dying.

Love always finds a way into our hearts. But you need to let that love out. You need to show your heart.

This essay’s about that.

My heart got broken a few weeks ago.

She was a beautiful surprise. Life began feeling even better once she came along. And for a brief, sweet moment it felt so right.

Sometimes love is all you need.

I wanted her to know that. So I showed her all of my heart. But it was too much too soon for her.


She pulled away and didn’t want me anymore. I had a hand in that. And I felt like I threw it all away.


Sometimes love is not enough.

I’m slowly putting myself back together. You know what this is like. You’ve probably been through worse.

The World offers lots of advice on dating. It tells us to never reach out to someone who’s left us. It also urges us to never do anything like this or this. Because who in their right mind in the real world does that kind of thing?

I did.

Maybe I’ll become a sheriff zombie-hunter . . .

. . . or a curmudgeonly record store-owner.

I did because fuck The World and its advice on how to be like everybody else. What my heart tells me will always matters more than what The World says.

I couldn’t get her out of my head. I couldn’t drive her out of my heart. But I knew I needed to do something.

So after thinking through every viable outcome I said ‘Fuck It.’ I decided to risk getting the shit kicked out of my heart. And after preparing myself I showed up unannounced on her doorstep one evening last week.

And I showed her my heart for what was probably the last time.

There was no Happy Ending. She didn’t break down in tears and apologize. She didn’t throw herself into my arms and kiss me.

I won’t lie. I sometimes imagined and hoped something like that could happen. But in reality I couldn’t have expected a better outcome. She graciously gave me a few final minutes of her time. Besides, she could’ve simply slammed the door in my face.

Take the small victories when you can get them.

I didn’t experience a Great Cathartic Relief either. I still see reminders of her everywhere. Some nights I lay awake while thoughts of her crucify my mind. And when I sleep I’m often haunted by sweet dreams of her.

Sometimes I feel there’s still something I’m meant to say. Sometimes I want her to know how much I miss her. How sorry I am for the things I fucked up. I want to reach out across the universe with these very words and ask her to give me another chance.

Sometimes too many words get in the way.

But I fight those urges off. Because even I know when I’m at the end of the line. Even I know that the only way to keep moving forward is to detach and leave something behind. 

Even our hearts must obey Newton’s Third Law

And in my heart I know that I have to try again.

Maybe you think I’m crazy. I don’t care. Who hasn’t been driven crazy by love?

Anybody?

No?

I didn’t think so.

And think about this for a moment. What’s crazier:

Hiding your feelings for someone, or convincing yourself that you’ll always have the time to tell them?

Go ahead and ponder that. Just remember that one day you’re going to die. One day you’ll no longer be able to show your heart to someone special.

Sometimes the heart knows better than the mind.

Sometimes you have to listen to your heart.

You have to show your heart to the people who touch it.

You’ll be afraid. And that’s OK. Fear means you care. Fear means you’re ready to find your courage. And when someone means that much to you, you’ll find it.

Take care when you show your heart. Open it slowly. Don’t give it all away. Don’t ever force it on them.

Let them find their way in. Let them find some hope there. Let them find some happiness in the love you give them.

I hope she finds the happiness she wants. Hope is all I can do. Because I don’t know that I’ll ever see her or speak to her again.

So do me a favour.

If you see her, say hello



*** *** ***

I compiled a full playlist for this essay. You can listen to it here. Thanks for reading and listening. 



No comments:

Post a Comment

What's a House Newf?

My photo

The House Newf is from a rugged and beautiful island on the eastern edge of Canada called Newfoundland. He was first identified by a potter with a naturalist's flair, and he does in fact live in a house under the watchful eye of a cat that seems bewildered by the universe at large. That house is in Halifax, Nova Scotia and that's where the House Newf writes fiction and essays on things that add value to his life that may add some value to yours. You can contact him at bobharding80@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter @theHouseNewf, on Instagram @thehousenewf, and like him on Facebook. The House Newf is a unique specimen. Every home should have one.