The Hemorrhaging Heart

If fate or free will ever again find me sitting across from a woman with a genuine interest in me, and she asks why I’m so terrified of falling in love, I won’t be able to hide my hemorrhaged heart. I can see it now, tensing up, gazing across the room, my white knuckled fists clenching sweaty palms. And then, with a heavy sigh I’d have to muster the courage to tell her the truth.  Continue reading “The Hemorrhaging Heart” »