The heart is a silly thing

Desperately, I've wondered what's wrong with me. I feel as if I'm a reasonable person, a clear-headed female with definite goals in mind for my life.

So what the hell is wrong with me? This might hurt someone if I write this but I have to be honest. I have to be completely honest: the fact of the matter is that maybe my silly girlish notions are working overtime. That part of my heart that was broken refused to grow up after it was torn and ripped and burnt in the intensity of a tumultuous yet short relationship.

That silly little barely-fixed part of my heart recently was brought back to life and I'm trying to desperately tell it to shut up and get on with life. I'm trying to tell it that the person who brought it back to life was the person who cruelly abused and used it and then tossed it away so easily. Even now I see for myself that it is more of the same as it used to be and yet my silly foolish smallish part keeps thinking such silly things.

Silly things such as, "What if this could work out again?" "What if won't be like the last time?" "What if this could magically be so much better?"

And then I again try desperately to tell it to quiet down.

And then the smallish part of my heart whispers oh so silently, "But what if?"

And there's a small part of me that wants to listen. There's a small part that doesn't mind listening, entertaining the notion.

Cheers.