The least(?) favorite part about me
If you ask ‘what is the least favorite part of me,’ I would say it’s overthinking. Maybe if my brain could just shut up at certain instances of my life and just let my heart speak without interrupting it. Maybe if my heart didn’t fear being judged by my brain, I would make life choices that are more ‘me’. Maybe if I could just stop my brain when my heart wanted to be loud, I would have less regrets and more life stories to tell.
I think the reason I feel this way is because my brain is always learning. It’s always trying to gain something from every experience, every failure, every attempt. My brain is always trying to grow and it never wants to be stagnant. Maybe I will sound crazy to you but sometimes I prefer my heart, which is unshaken by the outside noise, which doesn’t care about what happened in the past, it just feels the present and stays in it. It doesn’t carry the burden of so many life lessons, it just speaks, it just knows what it wants. Whatever I say from my heart, you won’t find wisdom in it, you will find just my wishes. And sometimes, I just want to block out everything and listen to my heart. To ask what it wants, and give it that because oh, my heart deserves everything. This cute organ, which is so selfless, so kind, so forgiving, it deserves the world. It has been through so much, but every time I ask it something, it gives an answer as if it’s the first time experiencing life. As if what happened in the past was never supposed to scare me from my beautiful present.
You know that one time, I was a total fool in love and got my heart broken by someone who never deserved it? My heart forgets him when it is trying to fall in love again. It wants to go all in the second time also. As if it doesn’t care what happened the first time around. Because it didn’t store the lessons, it just stores the unaltered feelings of life. It wants me to be myself again and love like love never hurt me. But my overthinking reminds me every time what happened, it reminds me of the hurt, it reminds me of those sad nights. And sometimes I think, maybe my brain is just trying to protect my heart. Yes, my brain is very different from my heart, and maybe every time my heart speaks, my brain wants to argue with well proven facts. Maybe they are enemies. But at the end, my brain knows if I left my heart free, it would hurt itself a lot. So my brain goes everywhere with it, it holds my heart’s hands and pulls it back every time it thinks it could get hurt. It keeps whispering to my heart.
But oh, how many times I have wished that it didn’t stop it. How many times I wished it just let my heart go and trust it, trust it to be fine on its own, and if it ever comes back hurt, we would take care of it, we would hug it, we would protect it. We wouldn’t tell it how it was a fool again, but we would just nod in understanding and let it cry. Because it was never wrong, it’s just that life is not what heart thinks it is. Life is a lot different from the innocent picture our heart knows and it’s okay. And I secretly wish it never forgets that innocent picture. I wish it never stops believing that good exists somewhere in this world, may it never stop believing that good exists in every corner in this world. I want my heart to always have that spark, the spark of always forgiving, always being the kindest in the room and always someone who thinks selflessly.
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But my brain- oh my brain, I really value you, I really do. I even take your advice- when you told me to not give too much to people who don’t give me back, when you told me to not wear my heart on my sleeve and when you told me to be cautious when sharing my feelings with people, when you told me to hide parts of myself to be accepted in this world. I agreed with you, I took your advice, followed it and lived by it. But I couldn’t stop thinking of what my heart was showing me. I knew my brain was right but doing what the heart said felt right.
And I know you will understand too because you do the reasoning. You will let me and my heart just be. You will always whisper, “I told you so”. But we will look at you grinning when you will write another life lesson in your book, all the while tsking. You will let us be free but know how to take care of us, you will say, “We won’t do it next time,” even though you know how naive we are and that we will do it again, without any regrets, without being careful. Because we always learn the lessons, but sometimes we set ourselves free by not applying them and maybe learning another life lesson in the process.
Because deep down, brain, even you hope to be proved wrong -that not everything is a life lesson, but sometimes simply a life lived.
