Bait with your heart says Mr. Twain

Bait with your heart says Mr. Twain

I was lucky enough to have been visited by a man who has inspired me beyond most reason.  He wrote witty coming of age books and made a great many laugh all while poking at the harder truths in life.

Yes.  Mark Twain was waiting for me at two in the morning in my apartment.  He sat at the small dining room in the center of our living/dining area.  My roommates were all asleep, so it was just us.  I set my bag down, recognizing the literary genius at once.

"Hello, Mr. Twain."

"Jade.  I've taken great measures to be here today. I wanted to talk to you about love."

"You wanted to talk to... me?"

"Yes. About love."

"Okay."

"I've been reading your blog. Yes, I read it too.  And you keep saying love exists and that you're a romantic, but I think you're lying to yourself.  Why are you hung up on someone that you know isn't right for you."

"I'm not anymore."

"Well, yes, that's also why i'm here: to make sure that that's the case."

"It is.  I mean, it was hard. I was sad.  It's been...rough, of course."

"Well, the course of free love never runs smooth.  I suppose we have all tried it."

"Hey. Aren't you quoting yourself?"

"Ah. You have read a lot of my work."

"That was from your notebook... Eh, I did a lot of reading on you during school.  You were my go-to for homeschooled biographical projects."

"Well! Isn't that something. How nice, well, I--Wait a second. That's not what I came here to talk to you about. Love. Love!  Look. When you find the love of your life, everything comes together.  There will be none of this ho-hey anymore.  Your heart will know and your mind will follow, and so will his.  That's why when we fish for love, we ought to bait with our hearts, not our brains."

"Will I really feel it like that? Will I know?"

"I fell in love with Livy before I met her."

"Damn."

"Ha! And you call yourself a romantic."

"I do. I just.. You're right.  I should never feel like I need to change myself--at least the core of myself-- in order to make love work because...That's not how love works at all...Mr. Twain? Mr...Clemens?"

And there I stood over an empty dining table in the darkness of my apartment at two in the morning.  

Behind You

Dear Good Friend

Dear Good Friend