If We Rented Out Our Hearts Like Our Apartments

His love lives inside this heart, and it does not want to leave.

It lives among the other loves, it’s roommates with friend love and lives across the hallway from family love. Love for the world lives across the street and is always bringing cookies. Self-love is flighty. It stops in for a while and then leaves abruptly, frantically, even though all the other loves want it to stay. Sometimes it forgets that it’s needed. The loves are all permanent residents of the heart – except one.

This love is his love, the love you have for him, and even though the lease is up, it does not want to leave.

The walls of its room are so nicely decorated, and the heart is always warm. It’s a cozy place to be, and his love does not want to leave. This love for him knows its just causing pain, but leaving would be so painful, too. But don’t you understand, love? It’s time to say goodbye. You are not needed anymore. The longer you stay, the more this heart is hurting. Can’t you see? Of course you can. You just wish you couldn’t. The paint on the walls is peeling, and the foundation is crumbling. This heart is breaking because of you.

I know you do not want to leave. The heart doesn’t want you to either. This heart wishes you didn’t have to go, but it doesn’t have a choice. I am the landlord of this heart, and I say you have to go. My dear, I need you to go. If you stay, there will be no room for a new love to move in. Another him. You aren’t the only love for a him that knows how to decorate, how to dwell inside the space allotted. This love, his love, is not mine to have anymore. Another heart is angry. His love cannot live in both of our hearts. It’s not fair. We can’t both love him that way. It’s not fair. The lease wasn’t up yet. It wasn’t time. It’s never fair. Fair isn’t a word that ever seems to describe matters of the heart. But this other heart says, it’s my turn now, and so this love, his love, must go. The privilege of loving him belongs to someone else now.

I know it seems like you just moved in. You never know with these hearts. It is so easy to get evicted. I’m sorry, but you can’t stay. I will miss you. I’m sure I will miss you every day. You made this heart your home. We just can’t love him anymore. This love, his love, you just can’t stay.

I post the eviction notice on the door of my heart long before his love is really ready to go. It lingers. It stalls. It dwells on all the memories. It looks around at my heart and cries. It cannot see the benefits of leaving. All it wants is to stay. The heart is silent as his love slowly packs up. The heart wants to cry out, wait, don’t go. Stay. But the heart can see the crack in itself. The heart knows this version of his love is no good at upkeep. This heart is breaking, it is broken, and it knows it can heal. Watching his love prepare to leave breaks it even more.

The weeks pass by, and the space in the heart where his love has been living begins to empty. His love is scared to let go, and so is the heart, but as the days wear on it gets easier. They know it’s for the best. His love does not leave all at once. It packs boxes sporadically. It moves out slowly. It takes its time saying goodbye. It loved well here. His love had such a good run. Of course, his love leaves parts of itself behind. His love will always be a part of friend love, and the memories will last. It’s not as final of a goodbye as the heart feels like it is.

And then, one day, it’s time. This love, his love, is almost all moved out. It stands in the doorway, observing the space it used to occupy. This leaving business is sad, and it seems so final. It also feels ok now. It is ok. And the heart smiles, because it’s finally ready for his love to go. Maybe there’s a new love waiting to move in, or maybe self-love is taking up enough room for now. Self-love has promised to keep checking in as often as it can. Maybe it’ll even stick around for a while. Who knows. We can hope.

The heart and love look at each other and they smile. And it’s sort of like the first time they met, that smile. This time, they know how it all ends.

His love walks away, and the heart and all it’s tenants watch it go, and so do I. So do I, as this heart is finally ready to heal. I’m sorry. We love you. Goodbye. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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