"Closets in My Heart"

I find myself attempting to write about what to do with past Loves of my life. Once you speak those three magic words to another human can that commitment ever really leave?

For me the answer is unquestionably "No". If I have searchingly looked into a woman’s eyes with my own; opening the gateway to my secrets and said that love filled my heart with the thoughts of her; no matter how it ended or why, my emotion of that love still resides in my heart.

So, what to do with all those "unique to an individual" thoughts of love that are floating around together like miniature water bumper boats you see at amusement parks? Each one center steered by the woman in control of her own craft. You can’t often let them collide into each other because the brain will automatically start comparing the two or three and that can cause several different “real life” occurrences.

It can make it extremely difficult to locate the next love candidate since she would have to live up to my personal expectation of the best features of several women. Or it could give you fuel for the next solo encounter of personal release which for me is not always at a convenient time or place. So to avoid these collisions I started building closets in my heart.

Every woman whose love consumed me for even the briefest moments in time gets a closet constructed just for her. Built from loving experiences fastened together with nails and glue of painful hurt. As the relationship dies the carpenter of logic moves through my mind and soul leaving filtered out lessons learned from the time spent with the woman. He collects as he travels my innermost thoughts and feelings then begins construction.

I keep the lessons from both ends of the life meter with ecstatic on one side and disbelief on the other; the rest is tossed into the closet without regard to order or placement. As the relationship ends the door is closed with a loud mental “click” as the handle snaps up into position.

Depending on the nature of the love, of how deeply it affected me, or how comprehensive a relationship it turned out to be, a padlock of distrust might be added or additional nails of disappointment driven through the door into the structure creating an object more resembling a coffin than a closet.

The little man that represents my glimmer of hope installs a one way viewing port on each closet much like brass mail slots on the front doors of old Victorian houses. Adding individualistic beauty as well as giving me the ability to insert lingering emotions of compassion without having to reopen the door.

Deep down in the essence of my heart exists an alternate universe of closets positioned neatly in a long column. No names are needed to identify whom each one represents because of the unique variation of materials much like subdivisions built by the government post World War II. Some of the closets are merely a few shelves while others are walk-in types, reminding me of the miniature boutiques in Las Vegas casinos.

From time to time a woman who initiated the construction of a closet boldly walks back into my life making me ponder the question of whether to un-nail, unlock, or even open the door of their closet.

To date all closet doors that have been reopened have been shut again, though maybe no longer kept locked. I am now better equipped to allow contact without allowing love to seep back in taking control over my heart once more.

The mansion size dwelling that represents my heart built with the unconditional love of God, my family, and life long friends is currently empty of an “In Love” focus but, I still firmly believe in the concept of finding a rest-of-my-life love.

Maybe I should place an advertisement or rent a billboard like Realtors offering a property. “Spacious Loving Heart of the most Romantic Man on the planet ready for immediate possession to the right woman. Plenty of closet space available.”

JCH - February 2010

Peace