I’m not sure if you know it, but my heart is broken. Who knew that tiny artery shrapnel could dislodge themselves and penetrate the very core of my being? They weaseled their way into my stomach, forcing me to lose my appetite. I didn’t even get to eat Baked & Wired this morning for God’s sake! Today was a tragic day because now I’m left to find a doctor to find those shrapnel pieces and stitch them back together. Because today was our last day together….and I spent it alone.
You whispered sweet nothings into my ear, calling me an amazing human being. You batted your eyes and sent love notes through the universe and you convinced me it was real. My heart went a-flutter each and every time your plane landed in DC and I was excited. June 12th you say? I couldn’t even sleep last night knowing that I’d be seeing you in the morning. Our very last morning together for months to come. Texts don’t lie, you were excited too.
I even took yesterday’s text in stride. I thought, YES. This is it. We will be reunited and our lives will be complete for just one short workout, one cup of coffee, one morning. My heart had a blank space, ready to see what was to come.
Was it the wine? I think it was the wine. You know, airplane wine is extremely more deadly than just regular wine. You have passengers sitting next to you and a tie that’s too tight and a baby kicking your seat, so the wine magically has ten times the alcohol content than usual.
Or was it me? Did I do something wrong? Was your heart just not in it? Did this past year mean NOTHING to you?! Did me showing up at your doorstep at 2AM scare you? Was it too much? Not even an apology. You don’t write, you don’t call, you don’t show up anymore? Why Jonathan, why?
But then I saw it. I saw the other girls. All of them. Even the smurf. And I realized this was your game.
You seek out the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen (obviously), rope her in with your smile and excellent use of emojis, and charm her with your travel lifestyle and that mysterious nature. You have her sit on the edge of her seat, just waiting. You even meet her for workouts and coffee and runs and lunch. And then it happens. You can’t deal with the wild hair, the intensity, the 4AM calls to just chat. I get it. It’s too much for you.
This is my final public farewell. I would have submitted this to PostSecret but who even knows if it would be chosen. My heart shrapnel is floating around, continuing to promise damage to my bodily functions. At least I got one last great sweaty DC workout in to help me through this weekend of wallowing and ice cream binging in Baltimore. Hope the wine kept you company. Because, we missed you this morning, Jonathan. Please don’t chase me anymore – it’ll just be hard on both of us.
P.S. Carl is devastated as well. We will unite in the all-black heart shrapnel look.Share via socials: