The Understanding Heart

I know myself. I know my sole function. I beat, therefore I am. I pump blood to every organ, nerve and follicle, sustaining this body every second of every day.
I feel the thrill of lifegiving oxygen reviving me as the blood passes through the lungs: from there I surge onwards, rejuvenating each individual cell, repairing, replacing, creating life.
On reaching the brain I feel the stimulus, the surge of electronic energy as thoughts and emotions are created and dispersed. I am lifted above my purely physical functions, drifting on gossamer thread wings of wonder and amazement generated by the consciousness and thoughts of the brain.
I float on a current the short distance to the eyes, wide open, gateway to the environment which exists beyond what I now realise are the relatively cramped confines of a single human frame.
The eyes gaze upon a second human form. My tenuous contact with the cerebral centre receives a relay from its memory banks. The form I see before me is feminine: my feelings are fervent, fundamental, feverish. Will she understand how I feel? Why I offer myself humbly at her feet: a willing slave, ready to respond to her merest whim?
I reach out, longing to touch this vision, embrace her, yet in awe of my own audacity. Will this goddess, this idyll of perfection deign to acknowledge my existence?
Cold. Ice cold. Frigid. No return, no reward, no feelings. No emotion that I can sense. She smiles, and turns to leave.
A glacial chill cools my ardour in an instant. I am alone, in a place so unimaginably dark it should not be allowed to exist. This aching heart, this breaking heart, this heart so full of selfless unequivocal devotion does not understand …