My heart is a secretive thing, far more so than I would like. It keeps its intentions hidden from everyone, including myself. It likes pain sometimes, just like the rest of me.



What I can't tell is whether I am sabatoging myself or finally being honest. I have wavered on and off for the whole of this past year, sharp vacillations between thoughts of marriage and thoughts of solitude. I am afraid of being alone, I know that much. I do love him, I know that much. We have a lot of fun, and we have a lot to learn. I have been pleading with my heart to open, to talk to me, tell me what it wants. In the end I have to watch my body and hope that it speaks the truth. I asked my dreams last night to tell me, and they may have.



I feel like I just chose to cut my arm off; after all, I just chose to break my own heart.



I think it's time to take a walk.