fix me

Growing up, my mother told me that men are more logical than women. They cannot be bothered with trivial things like emotions or tears. If it’s broken, a man would know what to do. Sometimes I wish I had a motor. That way, if anything didn’t feel right, I would know what to do.

If a car won’t start, you check the battery, the starter, the engine, the tubes and whatnot. Once you locate the problem, you isolate it. Once that’s done, you determine if you can fix it on your own or if you need a mechanic. Then you start the car again and see if it’s better. If it’s not, go back to step one. Point is, there’s always a solution even if in the end, you would have to scrap the whole thing.

But I don’t have a motor and so while I feel like there’s something wrong with me, I don’t quite know how to fix it. My days are filled with dark clouds. In your arms, you have but one question. Are you okay? Mostly, I am but how do I even begin to explain that sometimes, I am just unhappy? Sometimes, I just want to be left alone. I am, I would lie unconvincingly and that was that. You knew not to press my buttons too much lest I get too annoyed and stop talking altogether.

And it’s not like I can just scrap the whole thing. My heart pumps blood to all my other organs. So while I seem to be walking around without a heart, it’s still there. It’s slower and there’s a funny ticking sound inside. Tic toc tic-tic toc, it says instead of tic toc tic toc. It tells the whole world that I’m broken.

Sometimes I wish I really had a motor. I would fix it, make the parts shine then I’d call you up so I can give you the kind of love you truly deserve. I’m sorry my heart is not an engine and with all the will this little ticking thing can muster, I wish you’d stay right where you are.

Photo Credit: Man Fixing Car

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