In the heart and mind

People always say that the things we love stay in our hearts, while the things we fear lay in our minds; I can't help but feel that it's just the oppostie. The things we love...we know them. We expirence them every day. They guide us as a physical map or a streetlamp in the night. They are true and comprehensible, and that is why the mind holds them dearly.
But the things we fear, the things we hate...these are the things we cannot understand. We expirence these things with first caution, then eventually loathing, an emotion which the human body is not readily able to handle. Then, a person's hated objects become unfathomable; he starts to ask questions like "why does this thing exist?" and "why doesn't everyone else hate this also?". And becuase this something is questioned, it becomes a matter of the heart, the muscle epiphany of the unknown. The mysterious heart makes the body stronger; the same is true for fear. Thus, the two are one in the same.
My belief of a feared heart has gotten me ridicule is the past, but it is why I stand tall here today, ready to fight with all the strength that I have. The hatred I hold pushes me, breaks me into pieces. I know now that the only way to rid myself of an ever breaking heart is to destroy that which I hate. The memories of Her.
I did love her once, and my mind raced with thoughts of her. Her look, her softness, her smell, these things were all embeded into my small human brain. I had memorized every detail, every sound, and every miniscule feeling I felt while in her gracious company. My mind was very well occupied in those days, while my heart was left pleasingly empty.
Then, August's end came, and my mind hollowed as my heart swelled to unheard of capacities with hate. Oh, I remember that day well...to come home, thoughts of her keeping me light, only to see the body which I had loved for years, frozen in a state of death, with rotten three hour blood around her head, and a gun in her soft, tender hand. The only thing I had ever loved...she abandoned me. And for what? An imaginary paradise? She willing left me...left love, without warning. Though mark my words, I would still hate her even if she had warned me. Her warning would just have been one more thing my heart would use against her. Maybe she knew that, and that's why she said nothing.
It nears the thrid of September now, and her body lies in wait for cremation, her final wish. But my hate for her blares so brightly, I've declared her final wish a sham, and I plan to dispose of her myself. With sharp blades ready at home, I will bring her, and cut her so deeply, and so much, that she will no longer be visible. Perhaps then, my heart will be hollow once more, and my mind will be able to comprehend good and love again.