„The girl without a heart“

Someone had stolen my heart. I found out today when I woke up, went to the lighted bathroom and looked into the mirror. There was a big black hole in my chest. The blood was dry but it still hurt. He must have done it this night, while I was sleeping. Maybe when I was dreaming. Cause I was dreaming I was in the middle of a forest, and I was running fast through the trees. I was running away from something, perhaps someone. And I tripped. And I fell. And I felt this unbelievably strong pumping from my heart. Like it would want to pop out of my chest. I guess it was from all the running away and fear from falling.

Anyway, my heart was gone. And it was quite frightening. Well, I think it was. I didn’t feel it. I had only my mind to operate with. So I deduced it ought to be frightening when you wake up without a heart. As a matter of fact, I should be dead! But I could feel my skin and bones and the floor under my toes. And I called my friend to check if he could hear me and we maintained a logic conversation about the weather and his frustration with the transport service in our city. I asked him to come over after work and he agreed.

In the meantime, I preferred to stay at home. Just in case. I wrote a letter to my family and friends, and told them I loved them (I remembered I did), and for them to cherish their hearts and live their life following it cause life without a heart is one heck of a sad place. That it seems to have a sense but it just has no…feeling. And without the feeling the sense gets lost somewhere too. I wrote quite a lot but then I just rolled it up in a ball and threw it away. They’d just think I was out of my mind and that was not at all what had happened.

Karlsruhe, tea cups

At about 3 p.m. my friend arrived. He saw me. Old regular me. He seemed the same too. Just more pale maybe. We sat at the kitchen table and took a tea. Green tea. He drank green tea. No sugar. I didn’t care so I took the same. It tasted good so I guess it wasn’t a bad choice. He kept asking me about how I feel. Not directly. It was more questions like: How do you feel about Jane’s and Steve’s wedding? How do you feel driving your new bike? How does it feel to be back home after so long? (I was away for some time. Traveled around Europe.) And I kept sitting there thinking, he knows something about my heart loss… And I got even more suspicious when he answered; I think you did well. So I hit right in the core of the issue.

– Where is my heart?- I questioned.

– It’s…What exactly are you asking? – he answered with a question and a confused look.

You know what I mean! Where is my heart?! – I repeated.

In your chest…? – he answered confused.

No it’s not! What did you do with it?

What did I do with it? Is this some twisted way to say you fell in love with me? – he asked ironically.

In love? How can I possibly love without a heart? Look! – I moved my shirt to both separate sides, showing the hole in my chest – This is not a heart. Do you see a heart? I don’t! All I see is a big black hole and a memory of a heart!

What the…?! – he stared motionless.

I heard the ticking of the clock as he starred and starred, and got even more pale than he was when he arrived. He might as well be looking at my breasts but in this condition, I didn’t care.

His eyes finally looked back up at my face and he started speaking, looking as if he’d be back on track:

Remember that guy you told me about? The one you talked to on rainy nights, and use to dream you were both on sunny sandy shores instead? You know, the „dream guy“.

– Yeah, I remember… – I answered with irritation that the heart loss does not include the memory loss.

I think he might have something to do with that… emptiness in your chest.

Him?! Why?

– Needless to say…

I dropped deep into my thoughts until I made a statement – I will tell him to give it back! 

– Sure… He left. – my friend replied with a poker face.

– Damn, it’s true! That’s heartless, isn’t it?

– To take someone’s heart? – he asked.

– No, to leave. I should be dead without a heart, shouldn’t I? My God! He tried to kill me! – I realized in horror.

My friend trying to calm me down, replied well, I guess you don’t need a heart to live… The heart isn’t to be possessed, but to be given. Think about it.

– I am thinking… And I didn’t give it to him! For sure not yesterday for me to wake up without it like a drunk after a night party wakes up without his wallet! – I said… while thinking.

– When that’s the thing! It’s not something you decide, it’s something that just happens!

After time of no good ideas and maintaining confusion from heart touching words, my friend left. I was alone. But I didn’t feel alone. In fact, I didn’t feel much at all. However it was clear by now, that the „dream guy“ stole my heart and I had low chance of ever getting it back…

Days went by and seasons changed, and I tell you kids, living without a heart is one sad life to go through… But you don’t feel sad, you don’t feel happy either. You don’t feel anything really. It’s all gray. The world has no color and it has not much sense either. But if by this long time I still don’t have my heart back, I guess it doesn’t want to come back, and I guess the „dream guy“ still has it. And I guess I love him. And I guess we’re happy.

Written on 2 November 2010 by Julita Wozny


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