How to Guard a Heart

I thought I was a good friend. I would never hold grudges and rarely got angry. I would share all my contact information, I would even share my position with my best friends so that I could be reached anytime. I was up for anything. I answered all questions.

But one of my best friends informed recently me that that wasn't the case. I don't get excited about anything. I never call first. I rarely answer the phone. And sometimes I just disappear without any forewarning, ghosting everyone for months. She said it was like I was standing behind a plexiglass wall. It looks like she should be able to reach me, but she never quite can.

I was talking with a colleague of mine, and he told me how he recently learned that he was legally dead for a while when he was a baby. He had some problems due to being born prematurely. Of course, he survived and is an adult now, but suddenly a lot of things he said before about his parents made way more sense.

He told me how distant they were and how they often treated him like he didn't even exist. Although he is alive still, they'd lost him before. They could have lost him again as well. It was extremely cruel of them to treat him so, but I get it.

It's foolish to let yourself get attached to and invested in something that you know won't last. You can only blame yourself for the pain and the grief of losing a relationship that you could tell wasn't perfectly safe. I was taught it was my responsibility to guard my heart above all else that is precious.

If someone comes into my life and they are kind, I'm happy. But I won't give them a tearful farewell when they have to move on. People, classmates, friends, coworkers, all of them come and go. Dreams, opportunities, and jobs are all doors opening and closing. When one door closes in front of me I would just turn to a different one. No need to keep banging on it.

Only one exists as an exception. God is worthy of trust. His goodness and faithfulness never fail. He is the only one I don't feel the need to guard my heart against.

My mother told me of a dream she had. She was some girl in a dystopic world and people were pushing her to give up her love for some reason. They might've said she should marry some other guy who was a better match or something. She refused them because she said that the world is already an inhospitable place, but this love she had was the only thing making it bearable and worthwhile to live in.

She told me about it because even after she woke up she was enthusiastic about the revelation of love being the thing that makes life meaningful. And how great it is when lovers face the world together undaunted by all of its challenges.

What I got from her story was how my life will hardly ever have any meaning at all, since this exact irrational bond is what I have worked so hard to barricade myself from all this time.

Well, if it's both true that we should guard our hearts, and loving with all our hearts even if we know we might lose our loved ones makes life worthwhile, then, maybe there is reason to believe that heartbreak isn't something we need to guard against. Maybe somehow the heart becomes healthier afterwards. Or maybe the only positive of it is the fact that it drives people back to the heart expert for a check-up.

I had the image of guarding my heart like a dragon would its treasure hoard. But now I think it should be closer to protecting a child in your care. You can either let it go out, be passionate, play with the other kids, and treat the scrapes when it comes back in for dinner. Or you can be Eddie's mother from IT and make sure it can never be hurt by the outside world.

Of course, it's not good to be an irresponsible guardian either. As in all things you want to find the golden mean.

Passions are often depicted as fire. Living in a home without any fire in the hearth is unbearably cold in the winter. But you can easily burn down everything you've built if the fire grows out of bounds.

Everything you interact with, be it a person or a job, you have to either keep at the constant lukewarm indifference or be passionate about and be thrust into the unpredictable whirlwind of ecstasy and grief and everything in between.

I think it's perfectly fine to be indifferent about a job. But maybe it would be better to be passionate about friends and family.

At one Biology class when we were learning about blood types our teacher brought test cards and pins for us to check our types with. I was so excited because I wasn't sure about mine and I was so curious. But when I sat down to test myself I ended up just menacingly hovering over my finger with the pin for some minutes. I couldn't bring myself to hurt myself even to quench my curiosity.

On paper, it is so tempting to fall in love and burn with passion, but I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to disregard the imminent pain and hurt long enough to let myself, or if I'll forever stay my current selfish and cold self.

Regardless, anyone who has no trouble with this and loves easily is of a wholly different species from me, I don't get them and I can't empathise with them at all.

And I feel that is a huge loss on my part.