beating...

There's very little that gets my heart excited. Moving.

Yes.

I am that immobile.

But every once in awhile something will come up and make me beat. Constantly. So much so that I obsess. Just a bit. To the point that I can't think of much else.

Remember in high school? When escaping the boredom of one more hour and drifting into that place where you imagine the boy you like calling. Or telling your friend something about you. And just the fact that your name passed his lips can give you ecstatic, skipping happies to fill the rest of the class.

Or

in church, when your thoughts created a new reality. Like passing out as you were walking in front of the congregation. And a heart flutter inducing boy takes charge and comes to your rescue. Either involving CPR or lifting you with bulging arms, veins, and back to secure safety.

I just don' t have much need for such day dreams anymore. And I'm okay with that. Because now I have reality, which is better.

But every once in awhile my heart will jump, and I will look forward to something. Nothing to do with boys. But here I am embarrassed to admit what it is. Because my skips stalled last night. And that's okay. Because that is reality.

photo via Gabriela Camerotti