It’s Your Brain, Not Your Heart, that Falls in Love

Rishona Michael

It’s Your Brain, Not Your Heart, that Falls in Love

My Psychology textbook informed me, “it’s your brain, not your heart, that falls in love.” But when there was only absence behind the pupils that had once held my tears, When your muscular grip liquefied within our impenetrable hand intimacy I could no longer grasp the logic behind that statement, as every tissue Every blood cell Every atom in my heart Slammed against a jagged knife and split open. Like the cut that never stopped bleeding no matter how many bandages my mom layered on top, while my sister continuously screamed like a baby being pulled away from her mother for the fear of my death. And as your footsteps soon became recollections in my head And the glimmer in your eyes soon became the shimmering glare of a thousand words I could not help but question my Psych teacher about this bit of information. With a sunset-intensified frown, she simply pondered the counterargument, then replied

“I guess you’re just special.” I laughed because his deep vocal chords had once said that, each word gently gliding up my arms, bouncing down my spine Emitting not more brainwaves, but heartbeats, Jovial hums that compelled me to circle the B instead of the C on the test. And I failed it, because apparently I only thought I was in love.