I never would have handed over my heart if I had known what you would do with it.
But the damage was ethereal; invisible to the naked eye. Veiled by my positive nature, my laugh and my drive to survive. My wounds were so well hidden that even I didn’t know the extent of my injuries.
Maybe that’s why I let you take it from me, with a smile and quite a few kind sentiments. After all, it was a gift, and you can’t very well look a gift horse in the mouth.
You smiled; you cajoled; you caressed; you wooed. You appeared to treat it, at first glance, with care and to give it the healing support and attention that it needed.
But your smiles turned to smirks, your words of woo to hooks and daggers and your caresses to punches.
Your façade broke down. As it crumbled to the ground, it wrenched my heart from your hands.
That fall crushed my heart and tore open old wounds that I didn’t even know were there. They bled with fear, doubt, and anxiety.
My heart…broken again.
In the aftermath, as I heal myself – again, I wonder what difference a bionic heart would make. What possibilities would it offer to reduce not only the damage that can be done, but the time and effort needed to heal.
Maybe, a bionic heart would allow me to take the lessons learned and apply them in a fresh way. Apply them without the pain of the scars and the memories that made the scars.
Maybe, a bionic heart would allow me to foresee the quagmire that will inevitably come from the people in my life. To navigate that mess more smoothly and with less collateral damage because the source code and the mapping is already there.
But, most of all, maybe a bionic heart would free me to love completely again, without doubt and without fear that the parts will fail.
Maybe, my bionic heart would be newer, better, stronger.
I know the path I am on is a path toward my own version of a bionic heart. I know as I move through and past each one of these experiences, I must learn and grow. And, I know that as I learn and grow, I must move on and share the message.
And, I must forgive…and forget. I do forgive….but to forget is more complicated.
I’m hoping, and waiting…as I bandage and tourniquet my heart while trying not to re-open the old wounds. My only saving grace is that I have a high tolerance for pain.
I am still waiting for that tolerance level to reach my heart.
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