They found the cure. They called me with the good news today, that I would be the first one to undergo the human trial of what no one thought was actually possible. A permanent shield to every rejection I’ve felt. No more pain, no more wandering, no more having to follow my heart. “You can live without one, a heart,” the doctor said. “It’s actually feasible.” He ran through all of the benefits: I wouldn’t be able to feel any emotions; love would be impossible. Any kind of love. But the best part is that no one could mentally hurt me. “It’s better than drugs, alcohol, all of that stuff,” he explained nonchalantly. My entire life, Everyone told me those things would be the best for me, so that I could just “loosen up,” Everyone said. But I tried them, and all they did for me was make the pain fuzzy. Like I knew that it was there; I just couldn’t reach for it at the moment. But then it would come back, and Everyone would just say, “Oh, go see a therapist.” And then I’d have to go, over, and over again. In the meantime, I just kept pushing the limits of my loyalty towards whatever work I was doing. Everyone was never there. Everyone told me it would all work. Now I can finally face Everyone and not feel left out. Not feel rejected, obligated, empty. It’s a medical feat. To live without a heart, to live without wanting anyone, anything. It’s what I’ve always wanted. To do, and not to feel. But I wouldn’t be a robot: I’d be the same person. Just without the need for care. Isn’t that what Everyone wanted for me, anyway? Not to “give a damn”? Finally, I can stop doing that!