IMG_1241I am not angry.

I am not sad.

I’m not mad…

Or bitter.

My heart is tired.

That’s really it. My heart is just flat out exhausted. If you can try and imagine the poor thing for a minute…beating, and beating. Over and over, and over. Doing such a good job. Pumping all that blood around this kick-ass fucking body of mine…day after day, week after week. Giving and giving…and giving LOVE. Just so I can get what in return? Nada. Zilch. A big fat, fucking NOTHING. Well, that’s not entirely true…I got a lot of love. Plus a bunch of lies. My poor heart is just tired. And I can hardly blame it. It’s been through an awful lot over the last four years. And I think, it’s time for a break.

Hey, heart! It’s me, Jennifer….And I’m going to give you a break. 

It’s a “heart-break” of sorts…

A self-inflicted breaking of my heart. I mean, everyone else on God’s green earth has done it, I figure it’s my turn. No more pain, or heartache…or wearing it on my sleeve and getting it smashed into a gazillion pieces. My heart is done for the moment, and it is in a “resting phase”. No dating, no flirting…nothing that will cause it to beat at a rapid pace, or make it flutter uncontrollably. No quick movements, or heavy breathing. Just stillness.



Like I’m dead.

Because, honestly that’s what I feel like. I know, it’s a little dramatic. But for fucksake, it’s me. And after this last relationship, I just feel…well, dead. When is enough, enough? How much more can I possibly take? My heart, the poor thing is void of feeling. I remember saying, if I’m fighting…it’s a good thing. It means I’m still in it. I still care; I still want it. But when I stop fighting, when I hit that apathetic place…where I just don’t give a fuck, then you’ve lost me. And I am gone forever, and never coming back. It really was easy, and fun. This last one; this guy. Which is where a relationship should be, right? Who wants to fight at all? Not me. But just like everything, shit starts to get in the way. Jobs get tougher, distance plays a part…he is a pathological liar. Whatever.

Ya know, life gets in the way of life.


My heart is just burned. So, no more. And this time, I am as serious as a heart attack. (Ha. Look how I did that.) I am giving my heart the rest it deserves, and the time it needs to heal. Am I going to sit in the house and cry? No. Am I going to ignore the entire male species? No, that’s just stupid. But I am not going to actively be looking either. I have always been picky. But now, I’m going to be asking for a background check, and 3 references. I so wish I was kidding. I might even take fingerprints on the first date. And do one of those cheek-swab thingys. What, too much?

I am doing this for my heart.

It needs to be protected!

Heart, do you hear that? You can thank me later….it’s you time, baby. Let’s get that RHR down to 40 beats per minute. Ready, set…NO! No falling in love. No, no and NO. ;)

xo j




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