Hopeless? Romantic?

I've been finding puns in every conversation. Help me please.

Sometimes my heart feels like a porcelain chin in a fist fight. I was a bit hesitant to write on matters of the heart, what with Singles Awareness Day fast approaching and all. But I can't survive another minute on auto-pilot and I must purge this gum ball machine of a mind.

I suppose I am a romantic. This has been brought to my attention recently. For a long time I was a hopeless romantic. I was in hot pursuit of the sunset every morning, chasing down that one golden girl who was the embodiment of all satisfaction. When I go in, I go all in. I'm a bit of a monomaniac that way. But Olde Man Tyme has beaten me with the big hand of experience and the sharper little hand of pain. He's an excellent disciplinarian. After a few shipwrecks and bombshells, I'm afraid I've resigned myself to be a spectator. But I'm not even an enthusiastic fan of the sport. I'm the greasy heckler in the back row who screams obscenities at the boxers. These things ought not to be this way!

Proverbs 4:23 tells us to guard our hearts above all things, for from it flow the wellsprings of life. The Bible often uses soft words loaded into strong arguments. This particular verse has been shrapnel in my mind for years but it has been slow to trickle into my heart. Due to my neglect, I've endured a good amount of pain, much like the rest of my fellow travelers. I have the feeling that most of us are walking expectations wrapped up in wishes. We are constantly pining after fulfillment and in so doing we leave our hearts back on the barb wire we had to climb over. Like Spartan infants, we expose them to whatever wind blows by. No wonder we are the walking wounded, addicts to the mighty Valentine heart. I have not been a vigilant watchman.

I think we should all stop playing with fire. We're a bunch of monkeys, knee deep in kerosene, with lighters. But you can't just outlaw dating. Certain Christian authors tried to do that. As long as you breath oxygen and crawl the earth, you have to deal with the reality that people will date. But we crave so quickly and deeply a fast happiness that we tear into each other's hearts like jackals around a fresh kill. There is no protection. There is no insurance. There is no commitment.

So right now, I'm just a tangle of smiles and clenched fists. Don't pay any mind to the cynical, bitter color of my words. It's late and I'm tired. I've just been thinking more than I should. But the sentiment remains. I am truly angry at myself and the other monkeys. There is much more I could say here. Indeed, perhaps I should stop and patch up some holes in these sentences. Maybe I should delete some of the more sour phrases. It feels uncomfortable and unfinished, like going to bed with half of your nose stopped up. But whatever I said, I said without thinking and editing would just subtract from the sincerity. That's my excuse anyway.

Today was warm as pipe smoke. I'll be better in the morning. Don't you worry 'bout a thing.