Fickle-uality

Fickle.

That word never meant anything to me until I broke the heart of the boy I loved.

Twice I broke his heart, and fickle was my excuse.

I was not fickle when the freshman

A year younger than I

met me at the gazebo near the lake

Where the wind had not yet picked up.

I sat coolly on the railing, my right leg dangling in the tall grass

He approached me cautiously and I took his lips

knowing he would surrender them to me.

Knowing I had caught his heart

and I have yet to know what that means.

To hold a heart so tenderly in your hands

the slightest word can pierce the muscle

What a cruel girl I was to ignore him

when he approached me days later.

There was another boy that felt me up

in the dewy field.

It felt nice for a moment

Then I was done

Done with him

On to a new adventure.

Because holding a heart in your hands is too heavy

and it was better to let it go.

"You don't owe me anything," he said nonchalantly

over the phone

His voice reduced to a monotonous whisper.

To feel your heart beat fast,

your breath quicken and salt-water

well up in your eyes means something right?

Frantically I searched the Web

Depression does reduce your sexuality

Does suppress your libido

Either that or makes you want it more

Which one am I?

Who has the answers?

I want to keep searching for the answers

Because

Life is not short

Life is long

because it goes on forever

And ever and ever and ever