Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub. I believe in the rhythm of my heart.
Hit play. I lay in a field of daffodils, sunlight blinding my thoughts. My iPod switches songs and Avenged Sevenfold’s Fiction rings in my ears. I feel every note pulsating melodic fire through my veins. I inhale deeply, sinking into every off-chord. At this moment, it feels as if my soul is detaching from my body as the irregular pattern of my heartbeat matches the pace of the song.
Rewind. I’m standing in his driveway, shivering from the cold, begging for one more chance. He’s whispering to me that he doesn’t love me, that he could never love me again. He starts to tell me about the girl he met, the one I can’t compare to. My throat is dry; I’m unable to speak. I feel a pang of emptiness inside my chest. My heartbeat flutters and falters.
Fast forward. Time is visible to me, his words spinning into the whirlwind of actions that follow. Somehow I am here, standing on my second story rooftop that protrudes just over the concrete. I can focus on nothing but the brilliance of the dark. I move one foot closer to the edge. Fear and adrenaline attack me, causing my heart to beat with such a profound force I feel it will escape my chest. This is it; this is what I deserve. I’m about to dive headfirst toward the pavement.
Pause. The inconsistency of my heartbeat is my only constant. It is the one thing I can depend on. We live in a world where we are told to trust no one. We live in a world where we are to expect the unexpected, a place where it’s supposed to make sense when one morning your lover is there and the next, you’re alone. I’m alone. The only feeling left within me is that of my irrational pulse. I can’t make sense of life, the chaotic or the steady. No matter how the story unfolds before me, the plot is entirely unknown to me until the moment it’s happening. You don’t recognize the greatest day of your life until you are standing in the middle of it. You don’t see the sadness of heartbreak until you find out your love has ended. You aren’t sure if all will go according to plan until either everything falls apart, or it’s over.
But my heartbeat I can always count on to change. It molds to fit every new sensation I experience. It reacts to every moment I plan for, and every one that I don’t. Racing when I fall in love, syncopating when I am broken, and pounding when I’m nervous. In the breath before a kiss, a sudden rush pulls me forward to become lost in passion. In the fear before a spoken phrase, a hesitant drum eases me out of insecurity. It pushes me an inch closer to love, to myself. In the silence of the night, it calls me onward. It pushes me an inch closer to death, to heaven.
Play. In the nanosecond before I choose to take control of my fate, my anxiety triggers a sharp, jolting pain. My heart ceases beating. Through every offbeat, every mixed up melody, my heartbeat had kept me living. Now, it was giving up on me like I was giving up on myself. I can’t bear the thought. I fall. Away from the edge, back onto the floor of my bedroom.
Fast forward. Now stop. I breathe in the faint aroma of the daffodils, pulling my hand to my chest and concentrating on the movement. My heartbeat is like music. You know the notes won’t stay the same, and that’s what makes it so beautiful. It carries on three slow beats, two quick beats, one slow beat, three quick beats.
I believe in the rhythm of my heart. Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.
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