...heartbeat
…. who knew that my heart could still beat for someone other than myself? after 3 years of detachment and the constant thought that no one would ever love me better than myself, you'd think that my heart wouldn't be able to love for another human being.
Recently, I felt my heart beat. The feeling, that feeling, I remembered it but I couldn't quite remember where it came from. It felt so brand new. It felt like something I'd never felt in my life. It felt damn good. And from that very day, my heart kept beating. It wasn't just a normal paced beat. It was a rapid, intense, emotional beat.
I couldn't figure out why my heart was beating the way it was. Was I in, dare i say it, Love? How could I, of all people, be in love? Love is an emotion that I swore I'd never feel again in my life, or at least not until I was 50. Someone had cast a spell on me. Maybe Cupid shot his arrow at me. Maybe it was that damn psychic I went to who told me I'd fall in love soon. I couldn't figure it out, but I knew that it felt so good.
Even though it felt good, it was scary as fuck. I was so afraid. So afraid that I would fuck it up. So afraid that I would end up getting hurt again. So afraid that I would hurt the other person. My mind started racing. It would go from one outcome to another outcome until it, I, decided to just stick with the worst outcome and run with it.
Once I decided what I thought the outcome was going to be, I started thinking outrageous things, and I started saying crazy things. I was afraid, and when you're afraid you do crazy things, especially when it involves love. I don't even remember what I was upset about, or what I was talking about, or what I was scared of. Honestly, I can't even tell you what the fuck I thought the outcome was going to be. All I do know is that I fucked up the situation.
I fucked up what me and that person had. I fucked up. And now I regret it.
-Domi
7/4/12