Heartbreak has been dealt in heavy doses this week for us. Love is so painful. It's that kind of pain that 'makes you stronger', that kind of pain that feeds your soul to push forward through the worst times in your life and reach something safe. Vulnerability is terrifying. Feeling open to danger, whether it's by physical force or emotional, is similar to feeling weak and helpless. The heart is a strange little organ. It is the center of our life, of our functioning human bodies. Or our dysfunctional mutant animal bodies. I don't care what you believe; people were not meant to be alone.
When I love someone, it's like a piece of my soul is given to them, like a bead from a bracelet. When that bead is handed over, willingly or taken by surprise, I simply cannot get it back. That unique little fragment of my being forever belongs to its keeper. And when the keeper hurts me, or somehow leaves my pocket of social relationships, that bead slips from their hands and rolls into a corner of their room. And it sits there in the corner, collecting dust - still ever present.
I cannot create new pieces of my soul, and I cannot control who possesses each little bead. But with only so much life to live, I'd like to think that whatever I do give out, it makes an impact in the keeper's life. Because that's all anyone can really hope for. To be held dearly in the palms of someone special.
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