Morgan Fu-Mueller
heartache in the sense of a toothache. something biologic. an ordinary developmental phase. heartache not in the sense of reaction to absence, but reaction to presence.
when i was a child i had nightmares. my grandma told me to stop sleeping on my left side, because my heart would be crushed while i wasn’t aware, and that’s what would give me nightmares. it worked for over ten years— cautiously learning to give my heart room to dream. she just never told me i’d need to do it when i was awake, too.
heartache in the sense of heartburn. in the sense of eating something that you can’t quite keep down, can’t quite digest. in the sense that you’ll still finish the plate, and ask for seconds. heartache in the sense of a warning sign you’ll ignore in favor of just one more bite.
the joy of eating something isn’t in the digestion. it’s the bare moments that you can keep it in your mouth, pass it joyfully and privately around your tongue and between your teeth. if it hurts after that, does it really even matter? heartache in the sense that i will ravenously devour these moments of closeness, these little orbits and collisions. i will finish my plate. if i can’t keep it down, i will ask for seconds.
heartache in the sense of muscular cramp. in the sense that if you push too far, stretch in just the wrong direction, the muscle revolts. dehydration. strenuous exercise. lack of use. risk factors all sound so easy to avoid until you’re seizing up. heartache in the sense of a painful inevitable wrought by your own choice. heartache in the sense of: hold me down. let me hold myself still here, just for a moment longer, and then i’ll walk again. let me stretch my untested wings. let me fall. i’ll get back up.
heartache in the sense of-
it won’t hurt when i look at you, because you’ll be there. it only hurts because i’m alive to feel it. it will only hurt after the good part is over, so i won’t miss out. heartache in the sense that i will lie here on my back, never on my left side, perfectly still, until i fall
again.
when i say heartache, i mean that my love is hunger. i mean that i will sit here at your table and eat everything you serve. i will ask for seconds. please, let me fall again.
CLAMOR 