Heart Damage

“Women are such complicated creatures.”

“Aren’t you a woman yourself?”

“Do you think that stops me from calling myself complicated?”

“Not at all. But what you fail to realize, that majority of women are stubborn and enjoy denying things that they, and others, know what is and what is not the truth.”

“I guess.”

“So, why the sudden thought?”

“Because. I was sitting in a McDonald’s restaurant today, and I occasionally like to look around the place, see what’s going on. My burger doesn’t hold very many interesting qualities. Nor do my coke and fries.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. So, as I was saying, I was looking around and I ended up staring at the Play place for a long while. There was this Vietnamese couple fighting. They looked really into it. I couldn’t understand a word they were screaming though.”

“Any money it involved a child.”

“It probably did. The female though, she was so… angry. Worse than the man. I mean, he was just as angry with her, and vice versa, but it was different. I could actually see pure murder in her dark eyes and her cheeks were tainted pink from the sudden rush of angry blood.”

“Maybe it’s just cause she had more reason to be mad.”

“No. I believe not.”

“There you go with the denying again.”

“Shut up and listen.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“She was so mad. And then, quick as ever, that man grabbed her small face between his hands and connected lips with her. I was shocked. Because it was such an angry kiss; teeth nipping, dominating tongues and their grips looked unbelievable unsafe. Yet they poured all their emotions into it. I could practically see the love and anger and remorse and guilt and all of that other shit.”

“Because that’s the power of love. And it doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman. Love, to be honest, cures all.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“How would you know? Have you ever been in love?”

“Actually, I’ll never know. What if this feeling I have, is just an infatuation. And that it doesn’t matter if I repeat in my mind, ‘I love him, I love him.’ Because it’s not really love. And I’ll devote my life to him; everything. But it just won’t be enough. Because I’d never know if it was actually love or not.”

“You can never decide if you’re in love though. You just know. That’s the power of it. Because you don’t need to say, “Yes, I finally decided that I love him or her.” It’s just not the way it ticks.”

“Since when does love have rules? I thought it was a free for all thing.”

“There’s rules, and then there’s automatic rules.”

“Moron…”

“What was that?”

“Kiss me.”

++