I honestly have no idea where to begin. Or how this will end. But I have the undeniable need to put words on paper. I do this with the hope that life will slowly untangle itself on the page.
With great love comes great risk. How many times can I take the leap of faith required to really trust another with my heart. My love is correct. I gave my heart to him with a very sincere hope that he would recognize it as a gift. Precious fragile and carefully mended together after much heartbreak.
To offer a previously broken heart takes tremendous courage.
Once your heart has shattered the idea of placing it into someone's hands is terrifying. Despite that, giving my heart to him was surprisingly easy. In fact, it felt like coming home, a recognition of sorts. He says I am different now. How could I not be? I don't intentionally try to be different, but somehow I am.
Imagine a vase dropped to the floor. It breaks into a few pieces so you carefully glue those pieces back together again, and it looks as good as new. But its structure is weakened. You must handle it with more care than before. Dropped twice, it breaks again, but this time into more pieces. Again, the glue, only this time it takes longer to repair along with more patience.
Dropped again, and again, over time, and tired of making so many repairs, you place your vase in a container with walls to protect it. It makes it harder to see the beauty of the vase, but it becomes necessary. One day you tire of keeping it protected. You want to bring it out and fully enjoy it again. You find a place to put it. To share it and cautiously put it down, knowing that if it falls, and breaks one more time, that could be the last. It may not be possible for it to sustain and recover from another break.
This is how it is with my heart. It is kind, beautiful, and full of love. It's been broken, and I've glued it back together, multiple times. Eventually, I created a container with strong thick walls to protect it. Then I met him, and not only did my heart leap, it longed for me to set it free. To remove the container so that he could have it fully, even in its fragile state, because this is what love does. It knows only of love.
The heart's deepest longing is to love, to be the hub for this incredible energy in our body. When the heart recognizes its home in another it begs to be set free, unrestrained and unprotected. It is through deep vulnerability that we are truly free. The walls feel protective, but are simply a cage, holding us back, preventing deep lasting love.
I see the look of confusion in his eyes, he is no longer certain of me and my love. I am still the same. Only now, my heart is back in its container protected, but sad, because it wants to be free to love him again as it did before. My fear creates fear in him and the cycle begins anew. How I wish he could see that my heart is his completely, but this time, it is he that must do the repair. He must hold my heart carefully, lifting the pieces from the container and patiently gently lovingly begin gluing it back together, stronger than ever before.
This is our plight a burning desire to experience a greater love than we've ever known, blocked by the walls of fear we've placed around our hearts.
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