In school, the big push is for writing personal narratives. So, the kids had to draw a heart and write all the things that are important to them inside the heart. After that, the students write a story for each chunk of their heart. The final result will be a big personal narrative.

 

I never expect my students to do something I am not willing to do myself. Therefore. I made a heart as well. I started writing my stories. It really isn’t going that well. I could make the excuses; I am sick. But I just have been watching dumb movies instead of doing my work. Seriously, last night I watched “What Lies Beneath” and ‘Nurse Betty.”

 

Tonight I am forcing myself to write. I don’t think I can stomach another movie.

 

So, I have the IPOD hooked up, Yoda is shaking his stick at me, and the coke Zero can is all ready.

 

Yet, I have nothing to write about. I have thoughts in my head. I have written this blog at least four times and deleted each one.

 

What am I hiding from?

 

My heart.

 

Right there, in your own little section of my heart (let’s face it, would you ever accept it any other way?) you sit there. Tears run down my face as the memories march on.

 

I hate that we don’t talk as much anymore. Sure, you claim you are busy and I am sure you are really busy. But it just sucks that I can’t have just a minute of your time. A small hello from you would mean so much to me. Yet, you don’t do it and you know how much you mean to me. Hell, anyone in a five-mile radius of me knows how much you mean to me. However, I feel like I mean nothing to you.

 

I don’t want to keep calling you and stuff because I don’t want to bother you or anything. However, I don’t want you to think I don’t care anymore. Even though I tell you all the time I still care and I am still here for you, what if you think I’m not? I would hate that so much.

 

I think I take things too personally. I try so hard to find meanings in things. Maybe that is my problem. Maybe you do care and do love me, yet I don’t see it because I am too busy trying to understand the silence.

 

Why is it so difficult for me to just relax and take things as they are?

 

I think it is because no one in my life has dug his or herself so deep inside my heart. There is only one of you and thank God for that because I couldn’t imagine another one like you.

 

How did you do it? I never let anyone into my heart (even though it looks like my heart is a swinging door, it isn’t). I keep my heart very close yet there you are just sitting in my heart. When did you get in there?

 

But more importantly, promise me you will never leave. 

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