He was holding my heart in his hand. Should i be fearful or pensive; it was a mystery i dare not know.


Dr. Seuss said, "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." But i have discovered a harden truth, that my love is only reality within those dreams.

Each time i close my eyes, i see him. I don't even know his real name, but he is my perfection. This dream was different than the others, though. Most of them are beautiful, filled with scenic memories of a distant past. But this one was dreary and dire. I was laying alive on an operating table. He was standing above me with a scalpel in his tight hand. Should i have been terrified? Yes. But i wasn't. I was calm, peaceful, soothed. Yet, his facial expression was serious. It was as if he had a vital job to do, and no emotion, nor logic could prevent him from doing it.

He took the sharp scalpel and cut open my chest. I had never felt a pain like this, but i dare not scream. I refused to show emotion. He smiled to me as he tried to show a friendly hope.

Next thing i felt was him cutting out my heart. He did it carefully, gently. I could hardly feel it. I didn't know what he had done, until he was holding my heart in his hand. Should i be fearful or pensive; it was a mystery i dare not know.

My heart was beating in his hand. He was happy. He was ecstatic, as if the world finally opened up to him and gave him what he wanted. I realized in that instant that i shouldn't be afraid. He didn't take my heart...

I gave it to him.