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Artists Log in here. If you have any poems or lyrics or anything considered art by all means post it. Due to the nature of art this forum has the rules bent in order to allow people the freedom that is art. But i ask you to be reasonable and no Discriminatory conduct. You will be Kickfucked for it, trust me.
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| angel_rising Septic Mod  Quote | Reply | | THE TALE OF THE HALF-HEALED HEART posted on: 7/2/2003 12:05:01 AM April 2001 After years of hearing pages from the illustrious chapters of my friend's life, one of them in particular stood out to me one day. It was the tale of ill-discovered betrayal by a girl in a seaside bar where his heart had been left behind. Someday, he declared, he would go back to that place and reclaim it. After being in the area for the better part of the week on holiday, going wherever the spirit would take me, I acted on yet another wild hair. Thinking in parables of possibility, perhaps I could bring his heart back for him? I set out to see if this could be accomplished. I looked for the restaurant where this bar was located, luckily finding it. I took a deep breath before entering. Looking to the left, I saw the bar, a long row of dimly lit seats. I wondered which it was, with his name written on it in invisible ink. I glided past, placing my hand on the third one from the end of the right-hand side. Noticing that there was only one other person seated, I took my place there. Immediately, I somehow knew I'd found it. I closed my eyes. "If I ever had a chance to do some good", I whispered to myself, "let it be now. Where is your heart hiding?" I heard the clinking of bottles above the bar, and looked up. Much to my amazement, I saw a heart with little arms and legs on the shelf above the cash register. I caught myself gasp as I tried to make out the details of its appearance in the absence of light. It was a scarlet red valentine-style, about the size of a small box of chocolates, with what appeared to be pockmarked scars - arrow wounds, possibly? The deepest disfigurement, however, was the zig-zag line right down the center of it. It would have been easy to chalk this vision up to sleep deprivation or intoxication. As I wasn't being affected in that moment by either condition, I decided to take my hallucination at face value. "How appropriate", I thought, watching this heart with its arm around another that was still bleeding, apparently trying to console it. I called out: "Hey, heart, gotta minute?" The heart looked around, then at me in surprise. It briefly whispered something to its friend, and stood up. "You can see me?", it asked, startled. "Of course I can. You and your buddy there, plain as day." "No other person has ever noticed me. How did you...?" "Let's just say I got a tip that you'd be here. You wouldn't know me, but I'm pretty certain that you belong to someone I'm friends with." The heart went from surprise to disbelief. "Really?" It put its hands on its sides and tilted a bit to the right in slight defiance. "Prove it". I proceeded to tell it what I knew about where he'd grown up, how his mother was mom to the neighborhood kids, about taking off to parts unknown at an early age. By the time I mentioned his showing up on a girl's doorstep in Amsterdam unexpectedly, the heart was seated again, nodding. "Okay, I believe you. You made your point.", the heart said, chuckling. "But still, what do you want from me?" "Come on down and talk?", I asked. "I will", it replied, "but first, you have to show me -your- heart". I agreed, putting my hand over my breast with a reaching movement. All of a sudden, I had a hold of it and held it forth to show. Besides scar tissue from the deepest cuts, it was marked with sixteenth notes and the initials of former loves, not unlike those carved into an old oak tree. Dismayed, I also noticed that it was quivering. The heart leaped with an acrobat's grace from the shelf to the bar, landing on its feet next to my hand. It looked at my heart; my heart looked at it. The heart then looked at me rather quizzically. "Hmmm... the shakes of indecision. Haven't seen that one in awhile, and I hate to say it, but you've got it bad. What happened to you?" "Let's talk over drinks", I said, now feeling somewhat reluctant to go into the gory details. I put my heart back in my chest. "Pick your poison." The heart asked for scotch, but I talked it into a Guinness instead. "Look, I know that anarchy's dead, but this is probably easier on your valves", I explained. I considered ordering a Long Island for old time's sake, but change my mind at the last minute. "Two Guinness's, please". The drinks arrived. I raised a toast. "To unexpected chances, freedom of choice and the courage to heal from love gone bad". The heart and I touched glasses and took our first sips. "Interesting toast. So, tell me," the heart asked after taking a large swallow from its glass, "what brings you? Did he ask you to check to see if I was still here?" "Actually, no. He mentioned this place, and I wanted to see it first hand. And, I was hoping", leaning forward a bit, "that I could interest you in returning to him?" The heart stared at me blankly for a few seconds. "You're kidding...right?" it mumbled when it could finally speak again. It looked distant, staring down at its faint reflection in the bar's polished finish. "No, I'm not. He once told me that he planned to come back here to reclaim you. I thought that maybe... I could do it for him, as a favor." The heart looked at me sadly. "You've got good intentions, and I can see that you care. But it's just not possible. Weren't you aware that there are rules about this sort of thing?" "What rules?" Reaching into itself, the heart pulled out a scroll, unrolling it carefully. Reading slowly, it stated: `No heart can be recovered from pain or loss, except by the one to whom it was born. It is the responsibility of the heartbroken to take back their own for closure and renewal to commence.' The heart looked up at me. "Shall I continue? Or need I say more?" "Where did you get that?" I stammered. "And weren't rules made to be broken?" The heart looked at me as if I had just fallen out of a tree. "Every person who ever lived has a copy of this. Most of them, if they even know it exists or where to find it, don't take the time to read the fine print. They rush into love like they don't expect it to harm them, yet when it does they're perplexed and often devastated by the end result." "For example, see that one on the wall up there to the left?" The heart pointed. "It's been here awhile, but it's not going anywhere. Not now, probably not ever." I looked to where it was pointing, and saw a heart encased in a small block of ice. "The reason why your heart was so decorated when you pulled it out of your chest is that it's beating in the present, even though it remembers the past. It might help you to know that the hearts you see here all started out as pieces, including yours truly. As time passes, we assume these shapes based on experience and depth of injury. That is, of course, if we survive the injury at all. That one up there, well, not only did she freeze on impact but I'll bet, if her human counterpart is still alive, that she's never fallen in love since or that she's made a vow not to that she hasn't reneged on." "Just because the rules are mostly unspoken doesn't mean they aren't written." The heart took another sip of the Guinness. "And no, these aren't rules to be broken. Bent, maybe, but not broken. They're the naked reflection of the way things really are. Sorry to disappoint you." The heart rolled the scroll up and tucked it back inside itself. Now it was my turn to blankly stare. And I realized that I knew, deep inside, what `the rules' were. Some of those rules I'd taken great pains to commit to memory, because I've been forced to pay the consequences of breaking them. Bending them, too, can be a double-edged sword. But, there are some lessons you can't get out of learning, no matter who you are. "You know what?" I said to the heart, which was now swinging its legs on the edge of bar, looking at me intently. "There are rules. But aren't they supposed to make something as varied and complex as love make some sort of mysterious sense?" "Not necessarily. They're meant, at the very least, to be a guideline. But, fat lot of good it does, eh? Oh, and another thing. In a place like this, sometimes you hear people's secrets whether you want to or not. Goes with the territory." The heart made a grand sweeping movement with its arm as it surveyed its domain. "So," it continued as it leapt to its feet in one perfectly balanced movement, "what are yours? It's not every day that a person comes into a bar looking for a heart in the most unconventional and abstract way possible. Tell me if I'm right: not only did you want to find out whether or not you could take me with you, but you're looking for insight." Humbled but not surprised, I responded, "Yeah, you're right". The heart smiled, satisfied. "I'm flattered." "You look it. Secrets... well, I've got lots of those. Where should I start?" "With the one that really brought you in here in the first place. Your heart is pretty easy to read. You're in a dilemma. And you know there won't be any easy answers. Or an easy solution, for that matter." I took a long gulp from my glass before I spoke. "I know there won't be, but it's no longer possible to avoid the questions. The problem itself is two-fold, even though there's different issues at hand." The heart looked at me with a puzzled frown. "I know, I know, a little background is necessary. Let me try to explain it this way. I live with someone I care very much about, but it's more about companionship than romance. And even in the best of times, deep inside, I feel this undercurrent of resentment. I've made the mistake of allowing myself to bear a lot of responsibility in terms of taking care of his feelings and problems. Now, don't get me wrong: he has his good points. He's truly unique, very creative, sharp-witted, and I've learned a great deal from him. On the flip side he can be arrogant, self-righteous, insulting, and just plain demanding. Truth be told, we've both been abusive towards one another, and I've never had to work so hard just to get along." "It wears me down to the point where staying doesn't seem worth it. But I know it wouldn't end without disaster. You know how sometimes when people break up, after time passes they manage to be friends? Well, I'd be dealing with the antithesis of that. And well, cowardly me is afraid to go toe to toe with catastrophe. So, until I find the strength to say that I'm out and wear the suit of armor I'll need to protect myself from the fallout, stuck I remain." "And that's the first issue. The second one is hard to resolve as well." I took another drink from my glass and a deep breath before continuing, searching for the right words. "I have a friend that I've spent a good deal of time getting to know. We don't always see eye-to-eye, but we make the effort to try and understand each other's point of view. It's one of those relationships where you can sit quietly in someone's presence and feel completely at ease. I love him deeply, and over time I'd tried to suppress my feelings. But, at one point I let the genie out of the bottle, so to speak. I told him exactly how I felt about him. I did it because, in that moment, I couldn't hold it in anymore. So far it hasn't hurt our friendship but now, I can't get the genie to go back into the bottle, even though I still have the cork. I've made my feelings known, and I can't overlook them." "But when I've thought about where things between us could possibly lead, something inside tells me that it's a bad idea, regardless of any circumstances that will ever surround it. It recalls a lot of my own insecurities, and it snaps me back to reality with a vengeance. What we have is way too important to take chances with, but my heart still longs to take hold. Sometimes it makes me sorry that I even have one, because ever since the genie escaped, there's been a low-grade but consistent ache inside of it." "And that", I concluded, "pretty much sums up my condition." I quickly finished my Guinness and put the empty glass on the bar. "I appreciate your honesty", said the heart. "And, I'm sorry to hear that you hurt. But, you know, you really should be glad that you have a heart. Some of the world's saddest examples of the living are the ones who, for whatever reason, just don't have one." "I guess I'd agree. But it doesn't make it any less challenging." "Well, above everything else, what do YOU want? What do you want your future to be like? Ultimately, that's what it's going to come down to. So instead of thinking about what makes you unhappy, why don't you think for a few minutes about what does, or what will?" I sat, trying to come to my own conclusions while the heart patiently waited for an answer. Hell, it's not like I hadn't been trying to do that for a while already, but so far the answers I sought had either appeared in the form of an inaudible murmur or eluded me completely. I'd be first to admit that I had a pretty complicated situation to sort out and ultimately, resolve. When the answer came to me, it was crystal-clear. I knew it was going to take every ounce of strength I had to see it through, but I knew it was the most honest thing to do. I had to let wisdom rule the day. In the lessons of love I'd been thinking about I had learned plenty, certainly more than I had ever bargained for. And I was going to let that guide me. "I want at least a year off, heartbreak and misery free." I stood up from the seat to the floor next to it. "I want to give time back to myself. It's been over ten years now since I've had more than a six-month break from anyone. I miss the luxury of doing whatever I choose, without enduring someone else's opinion or criticism of it." "This past week I've had the opportunity to just be me, without the pressures of expectations or resistance from a caring but stubborn partner. I've had enough of feeling like a satellite orbiting someone else's world. It's time to go." I had no idea how I was going to make that break yet, or how I was going to deal with the fallout. But I knew I had no choice. The answers weren't easy, but still, I had to act on them. And I discovered my decision wasn't based in anger and resentment like I had thought, but out of self-knowledge and perhaps, self-preservation. The heart continued to smile. "And, what else?" "You know, as strong as my love is, I have a responsibility not to let it be a burden. And when friendships are at stake, it's smart to take the higher road. Bonds of friendship destructed over love are hard, sometimes impossible, to mend. I know my heart is going to continue to ache, but it'll thank me someday for not putting it through that." "And, as far as my heart's concerned, I'm going to be feeding it a steady diet of hard grammar and supplying it with a long deserved and much needed backbone. That way, it can stand up on it's own. There are times when the rules can be bent. But if you bend them to a fault, they're liable to break one day, and I've been in violation of too many of them already." "Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather take my chances on staring at my own reflection than creating more to reflect upon. Been there, done that. More than my share, believe me." "Atta girl!" The heart stood up and clapped in response. "You look like you've learned something useful. Now, don't forget to go out and live your moments. They're essential." "I will. Thanks for the reminder." "Aw, don't mention it. Listen, I gotta go. One of these guys needs me, and I'm part of the Welcome Wagon; you know, rescuing the wounded, patching them up. Mostly just listening to them helps, though. Thanks for the drink, and for sharing with me. It's educating to talk to someone out of a future you've never experienced. Here, this is for you". The heart reached inside itself again, pulling out a round piece of red plastic. It handed the piece to me. "What is this?" I asked, reaching for it. It was a poker chip with a heart in the center, outlined in gold. "Consider it a souvenir of this place, of our talk. You can also... consider it a piece of me to take back with you." I looked at the heart. "You mean it?" "Yes, I do. I think it's a rule that can be bent in this case. Besides, you wouldn't have found me if you didn't already have a little bit of this in you to begin with." I smiled sheepishly. "Thanks." We nodded to each other. I left a tip for the bartender, grabbed my pack and turned to leave. I was almost to the door. "WAIT!" The heart all of a sudden landed on my shoulder. "Yes?" I stopped, waiting to hear what it had to say. It leaned over and whispered. "I want you to see one more thing before you go.", pointing to the right by the front door frame. "See that one? When he first arrived, he was in pretty bad shape. I didn't know if we would find enough glue to hold him together. But he's doing better now. What do you notice?" I looked for a minute at the heart in question, and then it occurred to me. "Well....it looks like all of its fractures are on one side only. The other side is smooth." "Exactly! Know how he got that way? He overheard someone's conversation; a couple that were trying to find their way back to each other. And it gave him hope. It helped him heal, which is something most of us here don't get an opportunity to do." "Now, as far as our mutual friend is concerned", the heart said with a wink, "whatever place you have in his life, as long as you pay attention to the rules, it gives me confidence that he's in good hands. Which also gives me hope. Bye now." The heart jumped off my shoulder onto a nearby table, waving goodbye. I waved back and walked through the door into the rainy afternoon, feeling some relief for the first time in a long time, and actually looking forward to going home. |
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fluttergrrl
Quote | Reply | |
THE TALE OF THE HALF-HEALED HEART
replied on: 7/2/2003 5:19:05 AM where's that from? |
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angel_rising
Septic Mod Quote | Reply | |
THE TALE OF THE HALF-HEALED HEART
replied on: 7/5/2003 4:14:05 AM what do you mean? |
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Daniela_Cleveland
Quote | Reply | This message was updated on 2/12/2004 6:58:23 PM by Daniela_Cleveland |
THE TALE OF THE HALF-HEALED HEART
replied on: 2/12/2004 6:35:05 PM I'll tell you where AngelRising got that from - me. I've posted it on any number of different web sites over the past 3 years since I wrote it. I have posted it with my name intact, and anonymously, as well during that time, which is why AR couldn't credit it to me. I was convinced that it was worthy of being copy-written, so I ensured that shortly after I finished it. I haven't tried to shop it out to any small publishers or quarterlies, though I've considered it. Ideas of where, anyone? Thanks for taking the time to read it. And thank you, AR, for thinking enough of it to post it here! I hope that perhaps it can help someone somewhere. (PS...the tale has a happy ending - i'm engaged to 'the heart') |
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