Dear Brain,

Which is it?

When it concerns romance, do people think with their heart or brain? Because illogical decisions are widely popular.

It’s you, Brain. Isn’t it?

Ironic. One second we love someone, the next we change our minds – usually in less time than it takes to cook instant rice. You’re in cahoots with our heart, aren’t you? You’re “friends.” But you’re a master manipulator. And you trick our heart. Fooling it into following your lead. Saying, “Hey, remember last time? Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

We listen to you, Brain, instead of our heart. So, we believe our decision is logical. Discussed with friends. Pros and cons weighted. We put our faith in your logic, even though our heart is screaming. And our boom-boom can’t stop the looming doom.

Destruction in sight, we’re a runaway train. We’re on the speedway. Barrelling towards our target. Destroying people in our path.

Slow clap, Brain.

Here’s some logic for you.

The shape of a heart obviously isn’t a triangle and a bum smushed together. And love can’t stem from a vital organ. Love’s a saying. Feelings. Actions. When it comes to matters of the heart, you’re excluded from the three, Brain.

Because we don’t tell people, “I love you with all my brain.” Kids don’t draw you for Valentine’s Day then pass “I brain you” cards to their crushes.

No. It’s “I love you with all my heart,” and “I love you.” Sure, Brain, you’re logical. And maybe love seems completely illogical, but it’s smarter than you think. Love’s meant to be passionate. Whimsical. Magical. I fail to believe something so powerful can be written off as simply a concept.

Concepts don’t keep you up all night saturating your pillow with tears. Covering the bedroom floor with tissue. Concepts don’t shatter your soul. Or feel as though the world has ended.

You shouldn’t have a say in who we love, Brain. My only consolation is you deal with the aftermath. You control our emotions and actions. Those tears and tissues falling – literally – wouldn’t be possible without you.

And isn’t that ironic.

Always,

Tessa