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It’s a tricky business dealing with the heart. Physically and emotionally mine’s been unquestionably taxed as of late. Last week I spent an entire day in doctor’s offices trying to figure out what exactly is causing my palpitations, my irregular beating, my shortness of breath, and my dizziness. With two doctors, one specialist, still what is known? Nothing. I can’t say with a definitive answer if I’m ok or not. All I know is I’m breathing, my heart is pumping, but how much and how well? It’s scary, actually. The nurse on the phone called it a vicious cycle, the fear of my heart getting worse increases the pain and palpitations. I was called an incredibly anxious young man, maybe that’s true. I’d say it’s more about stress than anxiety, but I’m not a doctor.

What about the emotional heart? Valentine’s Day has come and gone again, and here I am at 24 no closer to finding Mr. Right. I don’t even care about a Mr. Right Now. I’m perfectly happy alone, actually. I don’t need someone else to complete me or make me whole or happy. There’s something about that intimacy, though. That close touch, that companionship, that tenderness. I think we all crave it, and I think our dependence on technology only makes that craving stronger. Again, just an opinion, no well-thought out theory here.

When it comes to love, how far am I willing to go? I’m afraid to really put myself out on the line for someone, I think. I’ve been hurt many times, humiliated several, and left alone up to this very day. What’s to make this one person any different? Just because I feel some sort of connection, a connection I don’t even know if it’s real or not, should I risk it on a whim? Some would say yes, others would say it’s a horrible idea based on the circumstances. Friendship is great, but what about love? What about that fire inside? I’m just to scared to go there. I’m nervous to let it all out. I’ve never let it all out, I’ve never put it all out there, but I’ve always expected it for myself. It’s a wicked double standard that now I’m facing the consequences of. I’m thinking of drafting a letter. An old fashioned-one to send like in the day sof Mr. Darcy. If it works, it’d be great, if it doesn’t, what do I really have to lose? I don’t think the friendship would suffer, my feelings are already exposed. I guess I want to take a chance on this. I guess I want to try. I know I do.

I shouldn’t let my mind wander. Never ever again. I let myself think something, something I wanted to feel. I couldn’t help but think it was a possibility. I got a call telling me I had a package waiting for me at home. I couldn’t help but think it might be from you, with a note accompanying it. This dream, this nightmare is turning vicious. I can’t escape the constant analysis, the constant articulation of a million thoughts and hopes. Then when rush home, each second bringing me closer to what might be, I find myself horribly mistaken. Reality comes crashing back down. I’m alone. I’m not wanted, not in that way. People want me for sex. How many times can you hear the phrase, lust vs. love before you begin to think you’re nothing more than eye candy and a tight ass.

I can’t keep going back to this. I have to stop. I think I move on, then a dream, a moment of hope ruptures my cool facade. I’m a mess, an internal mess, whose very thoughts disrupt his actions. My heart continues to beat irregularly. I’m still not sure what it all means. I want the love that they write about in books, but I’m just too fucking scared now to try again. I don’t know if it’s worth it.

I can’t get anything done lately. I just come home, sit down, veg out and turn off my responsibilities to the outside world. It’s not that I don’t want to be a good student or a good friend or a good laundry person, I just don’t have the energy right now. It’s been three days since Dance Revolutions finished and I am completely exhausted. I don’t want to think about how far I am behind. Today I’m going to go to my classes and be like, sorry I know I should have this done, but I really don’t. I will catch up. I just need a moment to breathe, a day to catch up, a day to rest, a day to remember.

The past has a strange way of making itself extremely visible sometimes. I’m not saying I’m some kind of psychic, but I knew when he came back that he’d feel this way. It doesn’t take a love doctor to figure these sorts of patterns out. Long distance is hard enough and sometimes shouldn’t be rushed in the first meeting. I just wish I weren’t always right about you. So far, I’m batting a 1.00.

I have to get ready, the clock is ticking down. I think I’m going to drive today, since I couldn’t for so long. The freedom is nice, but it’s odd nonetheless. I suppose that gives me more time. More reflection.

I’m often puzzled by my lack of understanding myself and my emotions. My heart accelerates when I get too frazzled, it starts to faulter, it skips a beat, adds another, quickly becoming irregular. I feel it inside me going out of control; I can’t change it, can’t slow it down. All I want is my old heartbeat the one that was always perfect. Thoughts of past, present, future make that impossible. When did it change? I remember a day this summer when it started going crazy. I was in apple valley. Maybe it’s just had enough turmoil, enough hardship. I’m not whining, but my love life has been sub par. I’ve been in love a total of three times. I think this hiatus I’m taking is going to help me in the long run. I don’t mind being single; I just miss the intimacy. I can’t tell you how good a hug feels but something closer would be so nice. Let me back into your world.