When I was young, J. and I created my Heart. As puppy love does, my Heart was born fresh and new. When it was over my Heart was barely even nicked or bruised. There was sadness, and tears, but nothing was broken, except a friendship as J. and I have never spoken since.
I then gave my Heart to S. as those that are young and excited do. He had it all, my Heart, so innocent and fawn like, with its shaky knobby knees. For years S. kindly kept my Heart, until it ran away, and for that I am so very sorry.
My Heart ran to M. who didn't know what to do with it. Thinking I was older, that I was wiser, that my Heart was stronger and grown up, I let M. have it with out closely watching what he did with it or how he cared for it. He dropped it. Somehow M. broke my Heart.
I tried to give P. my Heart, though it was too soon in everyway. P. never got or took my Heart. With P. everthing about me, and my Heart, was insecure, scared, weak, and confused. When P. left in a flurry of pain and tears, I think it shook my still broken Heart.
Now W. has my Heart. I handed it over timidly, scared of so many things. Embarrassed that my Heart was so wounded and beat up. Fearing that W. too would not know how to keep it, or mistreat it. W. has it, and watches it well. W. really cares for my Heart, lets it stay with him, and for that I am truly thankful.
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