It's an old story. Two lovers are separated by some giant obstacle. They collaborate and try to defy the odds. For some the separation is with the family acceptance. For some it is a class difference in the society. For others it is season of life. For still others it is just distance and proximity. There are literally hundreds of variations on this theme in literature. One very smart man, Edward DeVere, authored a great number of plays, at least 7 of his 37 plays, under the pseudonym Shakespeare, putting lines in his characters' mouths about the story of Hero and Leander. In the Two Gentlemen of Verona, Valentine refers to the myth as his love-book. Many, many others have referred to this myth in one way or another.
The story of the head here is that Leander knew how dangerous it was to swim the Hellespont every night to meet with the woman he loved. He knew that it was an impossible way of thinking to continue night after night, braving the waters and wind and current to spend a short pocket of early morning hours in the arms of the one who gave his being warmth. On the other hand, he felt so good, so comfortable, so much more when in the presence of the one presented to him as beautiful, attractive, and otherwise ravishing.
The head and the heart. Life is harsh, isn't it?! In the myth, Leander swims one night in a very boisterous sea, loses his way, can't see the nightly torch in Hero's tower window because the wind blew it out, and drowns in the undertow. In The Fiddler on the Roof, the main character's third daughter has such a love in life, but he can't handle the religious difference and ends up disowning his daughter. In the recent movie Rock the Kabash, the daughter of an Afghani breaks her stereotype for women and ends up having to leave her country for lack of acceptance.
Life seems to have a preference for the head. The heart swamps your boat.
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