Going Once, Going Twice, A Broken Heart … GONE to the lady in tears

Yesterday I received a startling phone call. My pulmonologist would like me to have an Echo Cardio Gram to see if the pulmonary embolism that I had eight years ago caused damage to my heart. When the cardiologist’s office called they told me that my appointment was listed as urgent. This freaked me out … a lot. Then, I got to thinking about it:

Did you ever think about how you will pass on? What will be your demise? I have, I’ve thought of a million ways for the end to come; mostly it is something wild and crazy. You know? Like sliding into your grave with a smile on your face saying, “Damn, that was one hell of a ride!” But, for the past 18 hours it has been a bit different.

What if I die from a broken heart? Both figuratively and literally. What if it is my emotions that take me? My habit of loving too hard, or for too long; what if that is my demise? Would I still enjoy the ride? Or would I wonder why no one could love me as deeply as I love them?

At first thought I believe that I should rebuild my titanium wall, to protect me from the pain induced by a lifetime of loveless relationships. Yet, that would make it seem like I don’t care and one of my greatest features and worst characteristics is that I care too much. I’m not going to change that, because if I did, it would be my past molding me. My history of suffering would break through every fiber of my being and tear me into oblivion.

I would rather die from a broken heart than to be unable to love myself enough to love others. So, if that’s what happens, if my heart gives out before I’m ready to stop loving you should know one thing:

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