I’ve always considered myself to be emotionally cool. It’s not that I don’t appreciate people or allow them to be a part of my life; I just prefer to not emotionally invest in people until I’ve gotten to know them really well.
That includes girls.
Luckily for me, I have little time to mourn the misery of single hood. Life consists of rising early to work, leaving work for the confines of the white classroom, and finally returning to my bedroom desk to pore over the never-ending homework. Minus the holidays, that cycle is repeated all year long because I attend spring, summer, fall, and winter classes. The weekends are spent with my friends, and we have so much fun together that I don’t consider anything lacking.
My friends like to tease me about being single and tell me that I might not actually have a heart. I don’t express emotions
well at all, so that is the foundation of their heartless theory. I do little to quash that idea. I rather enjoy being the modern-day Grinch. Granted, I’m only sarcastic, not actually cruel.
The funny proof to this heartless theory comes from me having trouble locating my actual heartbeat. After a run or workout session, I can feel the blood pounding, but weirdly enough, I can’t find my own heartbeat.
However college has changed my life and solved the heart issue.
My trig class at school has quite a few pretty girls. Pardon my blunt assessment. One girl befriended me and then she developed a study group which coincidentally has some more of the pretty girls. After weeks of devastating trig assignments and exhausting lectures, our study group has evolved into a tight-knit group and fun times.
One of the girls in my class is quite brilliant. Her dad is a doctor, and she is well-rounded on a lot of subjects. We usually meet up a little before our assigned study group time and just hang out while we wait for our friends to get out of their classes. We are incredibly sarcastic, and I sometimes wonder what in the world people passing by would think if they overheard our conversations.
But back to the heart discovery. A couple weeks ago, I was telling her about my friends’ heartless theory which she also agreed with. But when I told her about actually having trouble finding my own heartbeat, she was surprised.
She then looked up at me and said, “I want to see if you have a heart”.
I waited a moment before replying, and then tried to make it awkward as if she was asking me show her love and affection. That bluff evaporated when she smilingly replied “you wish”.
Her next question was even better. “May I look for your heart?”
“I want to find your heart.”
Okay, what does that mean?
First she checked my wrist pulse, and then she made me sit still while she tried to locate my actual heart. Had someone looked through the library glass wall at us, I’m sure they would have thought she was casting some spell over me.
It took her a second, but then she excitedly let me know that she had found my heartbeat.
I laughed and told her she had just made history.
When she asked why, I told her it was because she was the first girl to have found my heart.
I then sarcastically clarified, “my literal heart”.
Don’t worry, her handprint is no longer visible on my face.