The heart remembers.

Ever had one of those moments when you seem to know what's right but can't seem to take a step towards that direction? Like your body is telling you to move but your soul stubbornly refuses to budge? And you wish that you could slap your own sorry face for setting the roots in the wrong place?

Well, I have. And I think I've been in that situation for a long time now. I've been thinking about it quite a lot. Like why is my soul not synchronizing itself with my body and why am I not doing anything about it sooner? And the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. You see, my soul is more attached to my heart while my body is attached to my mind. The problem is; my heart and my mind are sworn enemies.

My heart is too emotional for my mind to comprehend and my mind is too rational for my heart to ever understand. My mind always goes for the simplistic solutions, like if you can't fix something then you let it go, you find something else and move on. But my heart goes for the sentimental values and spent years fixing broken things even when they are beyond repair, always finding reasons to hold on to things. So you see, my mind and heart are at constant war with each other. And apparently, the heart always wins, even when she knows she's wrong. Or rather, I always let the heart wins, even when I know she's wrong.

And yes, my heart has always been a 'she'. At least, that's what I think. And my mind is a 'he'. This makes the war having much more sense now, doesn't it? My mind is telling me to think like him, act like him and spare myself from the pain of holding on to things too tight because they'll either break into pieces or break me apart. My heart, on the contrary, tells me to feel like her, to understand what memories mean to her, to intensely fight and fix what I love because the pain of losing would break both her and I. I sometimes listen to the mind, but mostly I just turned a deaf ear and let the heart rules.

Over the years, my mind probably felt offended by my obvious preference and bias that I realized it has somehow partially stop functioning. I mean, how else would you explain these absurd happenings I've had lately? Like I can't seem to remember the lunch I've had yesterday, or the name of my family's cat that died last year, or my dad's license number, or the reasons why I hate that girl who used to sit in the front row in my class all year long, or the spelling of some random words I've used so many times, or how I managed to order a pizza delivery when I don't even know the name of the pizza?

But I do remember the wisdom words painted on the wall of my first-grade classroom, the name of the teacher who scolded me for failing a history test, the smell of someone's perfume six years after last smelling it, the color of the loosed paint on the door of the school bus, the sound of the cardboard scraping on the floor during my first play performance in high school, the boy who stood in the rain waiting for me to look up, the longest silence that lingered when I looked at old photos of people who meant so much, the touch of my best friend's hug that we rarely had because it seems corny back then and the tears that followed after when she died.

I forgot a lot. And yet I remember it all. I guess, sometimes, the heart remembers what the mind wants to forget.