subject line: stuck between my heart and my head February 03, 2017 by Hannah Brencher Philadelphia I’ve spent the past 8 months hanging out with a boy everyday. I talked to him about the real things. I hurt him a lot by maybe leading him on too much and not dating him. He and I had different definitions of what was too much. It went on for too long. He found out I slept with other people and asked me to get serious. I am a child caught stealing candy at a grocery store. I don’t know if what I did was wrong. I feel guilt on the most basic level. I can’t tell if I could let myself fall in love with him or not. We both have growing up to do. He could learn the art of self-care and allowing himself to fall in love with dating. I could learn the art of being more stable. I’m sitting here trying to punch our flaws into a calculator to see if there is any way I could add them up to make us work out together. It shouldn’t be this hard, right? It should be lying in the grass, coffee close by, seeing only each other in a room of one hundred, right? 2016 has not been kind to me. There are a lot of ways I am stuck right now, and he has been the only person who doesn’t let me make excuses for that. He is also the only person who asks me how I slept each night. I can’t tell if he makes me sleep better or if he has made me become more conscious of the quality of my own sleep. His sleep patterns are terrible. I don’t have some floofy ending about how I love him in spite of his flaws and in spite of my own. It is a myth that flaws are not worth accounting for. Baggage can be kept at the door, but flaws are easily carried and honed over long periods of time. I’m trying to read more. Perfect the practice of concentration. Look at Instagram less. Be less consumed with my followers. I always tell people to go with their gut. I am slowly learning sometimes my gut can’t get past dopamine addiction from instant gratification sources. Sex. Beer. The Internet. I am in an almost constant state of frustration. It is not the worst place to be.