17 August 2013

a map of my heart

I was thinking of what to write about today, and then this line popped into my head and then the next, and suddenly I was writing a short story. I really wasn’t planning on it, but sometimes that’s just the way my mind works, I guess…
I have given it the title Map.
I drew a map of my heart. I coloured it and shaded it. I framed it and hung it in plain view. I watched as the dust settled on it and blurred the lines. My feelings became duller the harder it was to see the outline I’d drawn.
This suited me for a while, for I had grown weary of my emotions ruling my life. But gradually I realised that without my feelings I was living the zombie life. I lived as though I was already dead and I found it to be dull.
So I took my picture down and blew on it to remove the dust. As I blew I saw the map was no longer there. All those years of neglect had left it too weak to survive. I had to start again. But I no longer remembered the paths that used to be so familiar and I could not recall the pattern of its beating.
My only solution was to get to know it again, to test it out and see how it ran. I started small and took my heart to my friends and asked them to show me the lines that they might remember. They helped me trace my edges, but only I could trace the core.
I tried to use it to see if that would remind me and got a kitten to practice on. It was cute and fluffy, but the first time I watched it crunching a spider I lost the love I had for it and gave it to my friend the next day. I missed it though and knew that it was part of my map now. I reclaimed my kitten and learned to live with its cat nature.
I met a kind man in a queue one day, we chatted to pass the time. He made me laugh and invited me for coffee. I felt another path begin and agreed. I found myself learning to depend upon him and gave myself to him. I was surprised to find that as I drew these new lines of my heart the lines of his were weaving themselves in too.
I carried his heart in mine and felt safe knowing he also held my own. We lived together in happiness for many years and my heart map was thriving and I learned all its places. But there were parts of it that I never found again, that were lost forever to my knowledge.

But I had learned to be more myself and less afraid. I felt sure the corners I’d lost were gone for a reason. And I realised that my map might not be the same as it was at first but that didn't make it less good. Only different.
Yeah, what did you think?

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