An Affair Of The Heart

Every night I'll be with you.
Do you love her? Do you love her?
Every day I dream of you.
Do you love me? Do you love me?

And so it begins, this month of April 2010, with the lyrics of a Korean song playing from my MP3, on my computer, on Youtube and consequently in my head. In addition, I find myself with that unfamiliar and bizarre feeling that occurs after noon on the first of the month so is not an April Fool's joke. I say 'that' feeling because it reminds me of how other people feel at times, but it is unfamiliar to me, just as affairs of the heart are. Questions. It's a little bit scary. It's awareness of anxiousness. It's stomach-churning. It's looking through a glass pane and seeing blurred images that come in and out of focus. It's odd. It's brain chemistry. But there's pressure, too. To act, to do, to be like, to charge, to change. It is because of this that I ask the drive - are you real, or are you pretending to be?

There was a greeting, simple and warm. A different language, one I could understand being spoken, and another being heard. 50 minutes. Then descending three steps, a little walking followed by climbing about a dozen more steps, then through a known labyrinth - a great metaphor - to pressing a button a couple of times and a light turning on. Up we go. Ink, a stapler and some paper later, further we fall. The empty place that beckons our arrival is quiet. On chairs, joined paper in front, a meeting occurs and there is talking. Two voices, then a third incidentally appears and flees. Speech about God, about what is spoken, about why it is spoken, about words and their meanings and their worth to be kept. Arms crossed, mouths open and shut, open heart(s). Light. Switch off, an apology sent but not wholly meant so I made a mental note to redeem by buying lunch for the one to whom I was apologising to. Steps on a footpath, gray. A meeting, followed by an opening of doors and a challenge of the mind to channel its knowledge into a tattoo on the lined paper. Less than 50 minutes. Then I walk, across more paths and accompanied. Up the stairs, to the left then straight ahead, a triumphant union, (re)introductions. Migration. Chatter, laughter, reservation, walking away. I remain, I reseat. More chatter, more laughter.

Then a question spoken with a smile for an answer and the appearance of this feeling I talked about at the start. It seems to be an affair of the heart, one new in its intensity. A 'la-la-la' in my head. At this point, the doors were open and I felt, maybe not in these same words, that hiding visibly was an imperfect exercise in pretending. So to the question, I gave a smile to the person who asked it, an extension of a brother's hand, of thanks. Laughter following was the cause of a mask feebly arranged, not really meant to cover anything but the ego of which I am letting go. Then another question and a piece of advice. Then a headlock. Warmth within extending out. Such a sentiment in my steps as I walk to the bus; remaining on the bus as songs play with my feelings as a child with building blocks, making up a structure, then tearing it down, marveling at the spectacle. It is not defined, however, for this affair of the heart has inspired me until now, to the writing of these words that you are undoubtedly reading. Thanks for going on my journey and sharing this moment with me. Creation is beautiful - it is true. One does not follow the other, they are the same. And so are we.

So then, this affair of the heart... I do not comprehend it. If it is meaningless, then it's an illusion and it will fade. If its essence is real, it will shine through.

Here I am then, typing this, but once I leave there will only be left an imprint of my emotion, for you to interpret.