his good heart
The older I get the more I learn to live with disappointment. It used to be that I would only let myself be disappointed with myself or at least internalize and find guilt or blame within for other people's actions. Here lately I realize that people let me down and it is one of the saddest things to accept the significance of that.
Waiting for the sky to fall is a learned response, a given expectation after going through so many iterations of happy endings which don't end happily. Some of the pieces fall years later like aftershocks in a quake that leveled you once before.
I wonder if that day will come with Tuscany where I will say, "yes i knew you would do that" and not with a smile but with a knowing nod of pyrrhic victory.
Last week Tuscany and I went to the gym to workout in anticipation of my birthday trip to Florida along with the icing on the birthday cake... getting to meet the Jaime of Justice and her main man. I was sweating and concentrating on reaching my target heart rate, that magical window of elliptical cardio machine wonder where supposedly I am optimizing my fat burning potential. Ever the competitive taurus I asked Tuscany what his resting heart rate/target heart rate is. The guy already is at 12% body fat and has the nicest ass I have ever seen (other than when glancing in the mirror). He informed me that his heart at rest is about 60 bpm.
60 bpm is the level of trained athletes and career marathon runners and those with good hearts.
Good hearts and good intentions are usually twins separated at birth. They may have the same purpose but never quite get the chance to interact together, leaving you to wonder what it would be like to have them together and if they would finish each other's sentences.
Tomorrow we leave for the Sunshine State as my birthday gift from Tuscany. He is already asleep in my bed, gentle and serene, the way he makes me feel when I am with him. I am stressed out at the moment but soon I will be lying next to him, and I will curl up around him my head resting just so against his chest, hearing one beat for each second, the way a good heart intends.
Waiting for the sky to fall is a learned response, a given expectation after going through so many iterations of happy endings which don't end happily. Some of the pieces fall years later like aftershocks in a quake that leveled you once before.
I wonder if that day will come with Tuscany where I will say, "yes i knew you would do that" and not with a smile but with a knowing nod of pyrrhic victory.
Last week Tuscany and I went to the gym to workout in anticipation of my birthday trip to Florida along with the icing on the birthday cake... getting to meet the Jaime of Justice and her main man. I was sweating and concentrating on reaching my target heart rate, that magical window of elliptical cardio machine wonder where supposedly I am optimizing my fat burning potential. Ever the competitive taurus I asked Tuscany what his resting heart rate/target heart rate is. The guy already is at 12% body fat and has the nicest ass I have ever seen (other than when glancing in the mirror). He informed me that his heart at rest is about 60 bpm.
60 bpm is the level of trained athletes and career marathon runners and those with good hearts.
Good hearts and good intentions are usually twins separated at birth. They may have the same purpose but never quite get the chance to interact together, leaving you to wonder what it would be like to have them together and if they would finish each other's sentences.
Tomorrow we leave for the Sunshine State as my birthday gift from Tuscany. He is already asleep in my bed, gentle and serene, the way he makes me feel when I am with him. I am stressed out at the moment but soon I will be lying next to him, and I will curl up around him my head resting just so against his chest, hearing one beat for each second, the way a good heart intends.