My Heart Beats in Patterns

In the middle of the night while all else are sleeping, I am there wide awake in my soft blue bed thinking. What I am thinking of is distant to me as I continuously try to fight the thoughts to go back to sleep. I think of her and her life and I wonder if the thought of me is in her head tonight. Does she remember the time we spent together under the moon and the stars professing our love for each other? The mighty thoughts compel me to stay awake as I worry about her and our fates.

To start from the beginning of a tale still without an ending, I am forced to remember her sweet passionate kiss. I feel her lips embrace mine as I lay on my bed, knowing its all just intertwined thoughts and dreams continuously flowing from my head. For seven weekends, I have been alone because she is always busy and away from home. Over that we fought several times and until she loves me like I pray for, we’ll have battles of all kinds. But unlike three weekends ago and two weeks ago or a day from tonight, she kissed me and listened to my troubling thoughts as she held me tight.

Do you see how I ramble so lost in thought? I can’t the stand the nights when sleeping is a battle waiting to be fought. It’s troublesome, I know, to feel the way that I do, but until she is back in my arms. I must argue with myself the whole night through.

In the morning I wake from a night without rest and I can clearly make decisions now even with my sore neck. She seems so fine during the day if she’s there, but when I am alone to think, I conjure up things that I could just never bare. She will leave me for some other fellow while I am blue and awfully helpless and she kisses a guy who is indeed quite shallow and I get to cry with my heart shattered.

I blink to erase those nightmares and suddenly things are fine and I smile getting off of my bed, thinking about my lovely lady who is beautiful, fine and fair. What the hell does one do with a prolific malfunctioning brain like this? But even with my sickness I know that my heart has never changed or my desire for her sweet kiss.

What I realize now is that my brain is a fool; it is my heart which ultimately rules. It is my memories and dreams and nightmares which are obviously feigned because my love has always been quite the same. With all my heart, I’ve never loved her less or more, with all my intelligence, I’ve never felt so rejected and poor.

One of these organs are playing tricks on me, I can tell that my thoughts lie but in regards to my heart, only one close to me has the vision to see. Only one knows whether my heart is defective because she is the only one who has touched it well enough to have been infected. I hope that deep in her own heart, she truly knows that my heart beats in patterns that relay inner messages from me to her soul.