The August submission had the prompt ‘In my heart’ and we’re very privileged to have a work of art submitted by one of my favourite bloggers, Romi, from Year of the Chick. Romi describes herself as ‘nearly slim, almost busty, somewhat young, variably domestic, a little bit crazy, but…very sentimental.’ She’s also on the look out for a mate, but she has some criteria, so you may need to head on over to her place to see if you fit the bill…
I give you – Romi…
Ticking Time Bomb
Raise your hand if you’re a hopeless, pathetic, perpetual slave to your heart.
I’m not just talking about love, but even the gift of “life”. The heart it seems, has us wrapped around its little aortic finger, from the first rapid beat to the very last tick.
It’s the sort of power that the heart will abuse, while laughing in your face along the way.
Of course, some might have a healthier relationship with Mr. or Mrs. Heart (and if you do I probably hate you), but surely we’ve all been “had” by the two-faced organ?
As for me, there are too many foolish examples, but one stands out in particular…
…He was a man of 18, and I? A 14 year old “woman” in search of love (call the cops!). His hair was silky smooth, so blond it was almost white. I would often stare at his locks to see where they started, as I strongly believed he had unicorn-extensions (unicorns have the best hair, hands down). Either that or he must’ve been using a fabulous conditioner, like the kind infused with papayas and shit.
As far as his eyes were concerned, “crystal blue wonder pools” is all I can really say. In fact, his eyes are the reason he won me over. I hadn’t planned on falling in love, but when our eyes met up in the hall that day, I was done for. That’s when the heart said “Go for it girl!”, and so I answered the call.
In the beginnings of my pursuit, it didn’t occur to me that “Hello, my name is “—-“” usually precedes illegal intimate encounters. It also didn’t occur to me that because he had a girlfriend, maybe the “hallway stare” hadn’t meant a thing. Speaking of his girlfriend…I despised her immensely. We had never met or spoken, but I didn’t like the look of her. She resembled a country mouse, all miniscule and darty-eyed. I also believed she was hiding a tail, but I never got the chance to publicly confirm it.
Though the girlfriend posed a challenge, I knew why our eyes had locked that day: he wanted ME instead. I needed a reason to let him know that I wanted him too, and so I turned to the Internet. It seems like an odd choice, but I was living in the mid-90’s, and the Internet was gaining steam.
My email account was two weeks old, so I wasn’t really sure what to do with it. I’d been getting a lot of inappropriate forwards, and as I thought of each one fondly, I had my epiphany:
-I would send him a slutty and hilarious forward. Upon opening the email, he would laugh and know I was game for some action…the ultimate “double whammy”.
The plan seemed perfect, so I sent the email and checked every day for a response. I couldn’t wait for his “love confessional” reply! In the meantime I busied myself with sexual fantasies. Of course, I was only 14 and a little green, so the fantasies were rooted in making-out and grabbing boob (which was fine with me, since even today I have giant “cans” in all my dreams. In stark contrast, I always play the part of a confused “man-boy” in my nightmares, one who was jipped on the testosterone level…).
As I waited around in ecstasy, something terrible happened:
-My man read the email, and basically…freaked out.
Apparently this guy was very religious. So religious in fact, that he reported me to the school for having sent a racy email (!). During the inevitable “questioning period”, I played the “What’s the Internet?” and “Huh? I have an email address?” card. It must’ve been an Oscar-worthy performance, as I skirted a jail sentence and walked away a free woman (in hindsight I realize that they must’ve felt sorry for the greasy and horny girl)…
…So what’s the lesson in all of this? Well that’s the funny part: there are NO lessons! You might think that you’re learning a lesson from each and every failure (or psychotic interlude, as the case may be), but what have you really learned when you fall ass-backwards the next time? Or the time after that? I mean I’m 13 years removed from that psycho-quest, but I’m still just stupid enough to fall in love with someone who doesn’t notice.
And all this, all this foolishness, all just to feed the heart (that pig).
I think it’s time for a hunger-strike.
PS: for those of you who HAVE managed to find your love (and keep him/her around), I salute you 😉