You’re Going To Break My Heart

You’re going to break my heart. Smash Cut: Me being rushed into emergency surgery to repair it. Smash Cut: Me on the floor of my bedroom listening to The Stone Roses or maybe “Across The Universe” on repeat. Smash Cut: Me wanting to kill you, preferably during sex.

That’s okay though. A full heart is overrated anyway. On some level, I don’t mind having a broken because it reminds me that I’m alive and that stuff is happening in my life. The worst is an unattended heart. It’s not full, it’s not empty; it’s just there. That kind of make you feel like you’re dead inside and everything is just stagnant. The worst.

The moment I realized you were going to break my heart was when we were lying in bed together that one Sunday afternoon. The windows were open in my room and I could feel it tickling my toes like someone was blowing on them for fun. This was in the house I lived in for nine months on Curson, the house where everything started and fell apart for us. It smelled liked lavender incense that day and I remember holding you tight in bed, almost like I was a Boa Constrictor who was going to crush your bones. I started to sense some resistance on your end though. Your body just hung there like a limp rag doll and that’s when I realized that you were rejecting me. I was being rejected on a day where everything was supposed to feel close and that’s when I understood that this relationship was living on borrowed time. That’s when I knew you were not going to break my heart but that you were actually breaking my heart.

It’s amazing what you’ll turn a blind eye to. It’s amazing how many Sundays you can endure with a limp rag doll. The more you can get rejected, the more you want to prove yourself. You pull all the tricks you got out of your little hat. “Will this make you love me? Will this make you love me? What about THIS?”

In retrospect, I guess I always knew I was going to love you more. It’s something you feel from the very beginning, something you implicitly understand but try to ignore. You know the dynamics of a relationship from the beginning. I signed the contract saying, “I promise to love you more and feel slighted by your coldness. Signed, sealed, delivered. Baby, I’m yours.”

So here we are. Who woulda guessed it? Oh yeah, me. I ignored the signs, didn’t take heed the warnings because I thought I could fight it. Or maybe it was because I was more comfortable with the one being loved less. Whatever the reason, the end result is always the same. I’m old enough to know better by now but too young to change it.

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