how come?

every now and then, when i lean up against something or flop over on a chair, i can feel my heart beating.

and i feel sorry for it.

it feels like a separate entity, a being in itself, slaving over keeping me alive. and i wonder...

how come you are still there? always beating, moving, never resting. how come you never take a break? i would relax for a while, we could both relax a while, stop this repetitive action and just rest. you have been doing this for over eighteen and a half years and have never complained. never taken five or a weekend off. always there, always working. how come?

im so sorry...