“The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of...” She murmurs to herself after reading an excerpt from Blaise Pascal. “The heart has its reasons... sure, its own tempting, misleading, deceptive reasons.” She sighs, closes the book, walks to the nearby window and stares at the downpour of rain outside.
There is a reason she clings to her books and her solitude so fondly. And rarely, if ever, gives her heart away, except to that ever imaginary world beyond the real one. There is a reason she will not allow herself to travel any farther than the walls she built over old battle grounds. There is a reason she is afraid to fall. She is convinced it will go wrong again. She will fall for someone and it will be wonderful, but like the cruel past has patterned for her, it won’t last.
Yet, the hope of it somehow working out - anything, with anyone - dawns like an inviting sunrise, to girl who willingly shuts herself up inside the darkness of the comfortable corners of her soul.
Old memories of festive evenings and excursions, full of sweet notes and innocent laughter, no longer haunt her - no, that has long since past. But, now, she has made it a private matter of learning her heart’s reasons - to outwit it, before it falls again. It is a nasty, devilish combination of a fear of failure - everything going wrong again - and of learning to let go again - to be vulnerable. Every weakness she has ever had climaxes at a fear of the past repeating itself, a fear of the present retreating itself, and a fear of the future deceiving itself.
For my brilliant friend's counterpart of this weekly themed creative writing project: http://thebeatlesandblackcoffee.blogspot.com