Of The Heart

There is a sadness here of which I’ve had little time to contemplate. I challenges me every day and its been getting closer.  I can see it coming down the driveway, through the gate, and its nearly to the doorstep.  Its going to ring the bell any day now.

I basically invited it.  I didn’t not invite it. I didn’t prevent it or have a daily apple to keep it away. I can look out the window and see it with its Steve Austin slow-mo stride; powering its way up to my stoop.  How graceful it looks.  Its very sure it needs to be here.

The home in this fantasy is in limbo. I’m currently in-between homes. I dis-invited myself as gracefully as a jerk from my previous. I liked it there with my friend and fur-babies. But I have a habit of doing what I think is right in the most pants-shittingly way possible.  This is the eye-welling part of the post.

A broken heart is like a broken lock. Sometimes its stuck closed and you’re sealed off and bristling with defenses. Sometimes its stuck open and all your junk comes tumbling out. And sadness comes knocking. Clean white shirts mocking your lack of decisiveness. Free pamphlets illustrating your failure at honesty. Have you heard the Sad News? Also, you’re an asshole and let me tell you about your general physique.

Oh don’t worry, I’ll carry on, dear reader. I’ll make amends. I just need to get the door.





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