The Heart as a Liver

No, not lover, liver. As in an organ that processes all of the bad junk you got in you.

I had therapy today, and I told her about my reservoir of sadness, which I can not tap into myself. We got to talking, that is after all what you do, and she got out of me that I don't feel like I have a safe loving embrace to turn to. It is kind of primal, but everyone needs physical comfort, and, though I have people to hug me, I don't have that kind of mommy/lover hugger. I told her also that I was afraid to get into a relationship because I am toxic, and by toxic I mean, I am going to use that relationship to just basically vent my sadness and feelings to the person that will finally "hug" me.

She agreed that that might happen. Then she made me cry. Amazing how they can do that. Just ask you a couple of questions, and blammo, tears.

So, I felt better.

Then she wanted to pursue this feeling of being toxic.

I told her about my travails with E, which she noted to me was the first time I had used the word "date" when talking about going out with her. I told her about my confession and my thoughts, and she called me brave.

She said I am very emotionally evolved, and that what I did there was fair, and couragous. She said that she thought my having feelings and struggles with E were good, because it is helping me to process all that I am going through and that in the end, it is making my toxic heart ready to be clean and shiny for the real girl I will eventually give it to.

Therefore, the heart as a liver.

Lord knows the way I treat my liver, I could use another organ as back up.

Driving home, I heard George Michael's Faith. Boy, does that song relate to me now.

He is all afraid to pick his heart up off the floor and give it to someone who wants it because he isn't sure he is ready for that yet. So, even though he wants love, he has to wait until he is ready and have Faith that it will be there then.

Sound like anyone you read about?

Just another example of my eventual slide into homosexuality. The Gay Mafia is pulling me in. First they send one of their soldiers into my home, and then somehow, they get me to identify with there spokesman. George Michael is sort of the Frank Sinatra for the Gay Mafia.

Puts a whole new spin on whacking a guy, huh.