- Gender and Relationships
The hazards of a romantic heart
The Romantic Heart
The hazards of a romantic heart
Indeed, will we ever truly find words to describe, true love and how it, feels? It is reasonable to believe that all writers genuinely stop and wonder, ‘Will I ever find the words that truly describe this feeling’?
Hopelessly, passion lives quietly alone, resting, not in the light of our hearts but in our very being of existence, does this light shine forth. That voice that beckons, from the still of the night. This dastardly place where the lonely heart roams abandoned of hope, reaches out across in an endless time, void of hope.
A light flickers, drawing the eyes of the heart. Again, it sparkles and the eyes of the man begin to see what his heart noticed first. The allure of the woman that walks towards him in a veil of light only his eyes can see.
The mind, quickly alerted to conjure its strength and find the words that would stop her from passing by. What could he say?
The mind races with questions of, ‘Words spoken out of turn are sure to offend. Words of romance would presume too much. Words of love are way too soon’.
Finally, the heart…the one that saw the spark lifted ups its voice and said, ‘Let me speak to her for my words will only speak the truth’.
With all in agreement, the man stepped forward, on the sidewalk, and said to her and sincerely said, “I found you.”
“And you are,” she asked him defensively.
“The one that will be good to you, always”, he replies.
“I don’t know you”, she replies as she starts going for her mace and walking past him.
“See me with your heart,” he whispers to her.
“See this,” she snaps as she sprays him with mace.
Clutching his eyes and collapsing to his knees, he tells her, “I wanted to say hi…I’m not nuts but when I saw you walking towards me, I knew I had to say something or risk never finding you again.”
“So, instead of saying hi, you decided to freak me out,” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m awkward, I’ll admit it,” he replies as he fights to dry his eyes.
“You shouldn’t come at a person like that,” she scolded him.
“Truthfully, I don’t know what came over me. I saw you…back when I could see…and, well…I feel so stupid”, he told her before chastising himself.
“Finish what you were going to say…I fried your eyes. The least I can do is, listen,” she remarked as she helped him get back to his feet.
By then, his eyes were enflamed and crying. His face was nearly soaked and his vision was grievously limited to a blur, at best. He rubbed his eyes a few more times, which did not seem to help at all.
“You okay,” she asked, still with a defensive, somewhat-bothered, tone.
“Nothing Lasik can’t help with,” he teased. “Still, you owe me date for this one,” he quickly added, hoping to lean on her sympathy.
She looked at neatly cut dark hair and although his eyes were flaming red now, they were a pretty blue to her. However, her mind wrestled with, ‘Is he a psycho or a harmless nerd’.
Finally, she answered him, “I’ll text you, but that’s the best I’m willing to offer.”
The man smiled, as more tears ran down his face and told her, “Only if you promise to give me your number,” he chuckled nervously.
“You caught me”, she replied…here’s my number”, she said as she stuffed a paper in his hand.
Quickly, he grabbed her hand and held long to tell her, “Though I am blind, my heart still sees you clearly,” before letting go.
“You are weird,” she kidded him.
Quickly, he joked, “I may be weird, but I can take a shot of pepper spray and still have good reason to smile about it.”
She chuckled before telling him, “I did over react…I’m sorry”.
“It’s okay…better than the knee…I think”, he teased her as his vision had started to return.
“You really should be glad I didn’t hit you with both,” she jokingly, replied. “I have to get going…will you be okay,” she asked, as she put a hand on his arm.
“Yea, if the folks back at the office ask, I’ll tell them my old lady beat me up,” he told her, sarcastically.
“You’re married,” she decried, as thoughts of making him again, ran through her mind.
“No…” he shot back and added, with the deep look of hope in his face, “…but, one day I will be.”
“You sure are strange,” she nervously replied.
By then, his eyes begin to clear and although she still looked fuzzy, she was still, breath taking to his heart. “There truly is something about you…please, tell me this really is your number. Before we part ways, never to see each other again, I want to make sure I do not want lose you. Not in a psycho, obsessive way but…I know in my heart…”
She started walking backwards, with a smile and answered him, “Well, the only way you will know is to text me,” and with that said, she walked away.
Quickly, he reached into his pocket and grabbed out his phone with one hand while holding the number up. His eyes still tinged from the mace but he was determined to text her. Had the number not been true…she was still close enough for him to reach. Then again, if it was not her number, he knew he should simply walk away.
His search for the answer is a reflection of our search for the words that describe, true love. The same words that perhaps, never will.